


The Truth, Part Four

by Seasider



Series: The Truth [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Crack Treated Seriously, Drama, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:47:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24613255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seasider/pseuds/Seasider
Summary: Luke is sixteen. Father and son struggle with their rocky relationship and make some progress until a crisis threatens to tear them apart.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader
Series: The Truth [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775602
Comments: 31
Kudos: 117





	1. Father & Son Dramas

**Author's Note:**

> Corresponds with FFN Chapter 31.  
> 

A life spent studying was a life depreciated. "I'm filled with ennui," Luke said aloud, just in case Vader had lied about not auscultating to him. Now that he had consummated the language tape, he needed something else to transact. And his brain needed an intermission from all these new linguistics.

Stretching, he walked across the room, shoved his hands in his pockets and stood in front of the wall, leaning forward until his head rested against the smooth surface that separated his quarters from his father's. "Luke to Dad," he mumbled, concentrating on sending brain waves through the wall. "Disengage my door and emancipate me."

He turned his head sideways and looked at the door. A dozen times today he'd tried it, but he was locked in. It might be possible to take the panel apart and rewire it so he could escape, but after the ceiling duct incident he'd be pushing his luck with his dad and Captain Piett. Without much hope, he walked over to the door and pressed the release.

It opened.

"Great!" He raced into the corridor, then stopped and dashed back to his desk, snatching up the audiopad before heading out again.

Chances were he wouldn't be allowed to explore – and anyway, he didn't want to explore, he wanted to be with his dad. So he approached Vader's door, hesitating before raising his hand to knock. As he semi-expected, the door slid open before his fist could make contact with it.

"Hi!" he said brightly. "How was your day? I studied through the _plentitude_ of the day! I got through the _aggregate_ language tape!"

Lord Vader was sitting at his large desk, datapads strewn in front of him. The helmet turned to face him. "The what?"

"Uh... the language tape. I've effectuated language already."

His father sighed. "There is more than one tape."

"Oh." His good spirits faltered, then rebounded. "Well, I'll actualize the remainder in a timely manner. I was just wondering if you'd like to perambulate with me. Or if you'd prefer to have some stimulating intercourse."

Vader's wheeze was violent, like he was coughing. "What?"

Oh-oh. Dad wasn't in a good mood. "Uh... you know... a little walkin', a little talkin'. I'm bored." In case that didn't tweak the right buttons, he added glibly: "And lonely."

After an unnerving pause, his father replied, "I am busy and unable to comply with either of your wishes. I suggest that you review the tape you have completed. Be aware of multiple definitions. Also, you do not need to use all the words you learn; use a select few in moderation. And properly."

"I can't win!" Luke threw his hands in the air, then dropped onto the sofa without invitation. "You want me close but not _too_ close. You want me to learn new words but not use them. You sure send a lot of mixed metaphors!"

 _"Messages!"_ Vader snapped. "Mixed _messages!"_

"I'm glad you agree." Luke nodded seriously before breaking into a wide smile. "I know, I was just yanking your chain."

"Yanking my chain," the Dark Lord repeated incredulously, his voice low. "So," he added after a moment, "you have reconsidered your need not to be choked."

"What! No!" Luke bolted upright and shook his head vigorously. "Nope! Not at all!"

"You made a promise in exchange for that favor. Do you remember what it was?"

Well... not exactly. "Uh... not to antagonize you? I'm not antagonizing, just... teasing." And since when was not being choked considered a 'favor'?

"Never tease a Sith," Vader said shortly. "If you promise to keep quiet, you may continue your study here."

"Okay, I promise!" Pleased, Luke stuck the audiobuds in his ears and pressed 'play'. The sofa was oversized, though he had a hard time imagining Vader lounging on it. Anyway, it was uncomfortable, so he rearranged himself to sit cross-legged. After a couple minutes, his legs became restless, so he slid down and hooked his right foot over the back of the sofa. He tried that position for thirty seconds, but the back was too high to be relaxing. So he stretched out, yawned loudly, crossed his ankles and closed his eyes, idly wondering if he could stay awake through the drone of the digitized voice. Maybe if he hummed a snappy tune...

"Sit at the desk."

Luke started. "Huh?" He lifted his head to see his father gesturing to the opposite end of his wide desk. "Cool! Thanks."

That end was too far away from his dad, so he grabbed the heavy chair. It screeched as he dragged it across the floor and deposited it across from the Sith. "What're you working on?"

"You promised to be silent," Vader answered without lifting his head.

"Quiet," Luke corrected. "Not silent." The reflective eye pieces looked at him. He could sort of see himself in their surfaces. "Sorry. I'll be silent."

He pretended to be listening to the tape, but he was secretly watching his dad punch the multiple datapads, moving from one to the other without hesitating. It was pretty impressive. He was probably doing something important, maybe moving troops around like on a galactic gameboard.

He wished really hard that his dad would show him what he was doing. _Maybe you could teach me. Maybe I could help!_

"Think silently."

Do what? "I don't know how."

Vader ignored him. Luke struggled to be quiet, but it was impossible. "Can I get something to eat? I'd be a lot silenter if I wasn't hungry."

"You may do whatever you want – in your room."

"Oh." He'd rather be hungry with his dad than eat alone again. "That's okay, I'll stay here and not eat."

"No. Your room. Go. Now."

"But – "

Vader raised his hand, palm outward, forestalling his protests. "You made a promise. I gave you multiple chances, but you did not keep it. You have forfeited your opportunity to stay here. Go."

"No!" He really, _really_ didn't want to go. "I promise I won't – "

"I do not believe you. Go. If I have to tell you again, the consequences will be dire."

"That's so not fair! You just enjoy being _mean!"_ he accused.

"Finally," Vader snarled, shaking his finger, "you begin to understand me!"

Luke rolled his eyes and stood. "Fine! I've been thwarted enough by you, I'm going!" He stalked to the door. "Next time you want some stimulating intercourse – good luck finding anybody who'll talk to you! I can tell you one thing for sure - it won't be me!"

The only thing wrong with his exit was that the door wouldn't slam.

 **OooOoo**

Hours later, he was still in a bad mood. The loud muttering about his father's unfairness was finished, but he still harbored dark thoughts and didn't bother to "think silently", whatever that meant.

So it wasn't really a surprise when the door slid open and the hulking black figure of Darth Vader filled the doorway, undoubtedly in lecture mode and ready to criticize.

"Have you completed your sulking?"

Luke made a face. "No." He folded his arms, fully prepared to remain in a stubborn state of righteous hurt until Vader apologized.

Fat chance. Vader didn't say another word, just folded his own arms. They stared at each other. Luke tried not to blink, but Helmet-Face had the advantage in a staring contest. _"What!"_ Luke demanded.

No response.

"Oh, please! You're not expecting _me_ to apologize, are you?"

The helmet tilted slightly. "For what would you apologize?"

 _"Exactly!"_ In the silence that followed, he noticed his fingers were tapping on his sleeves, so he uncrossed his arms and plunged his fists into his pockets. "I wasn't exactly being _noisy!"_ he added defensively. "Okay, maybe I wasn't super-quiet, but it's not a crime! _Sorry!_ You make such a big deal out of everything."

Nothing, not a response, _nothing!_

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Luke finally demanded, frustrated by the silence. "I said I was sorry!"

"For what are you sorry?"

"I'm sorry I didn't escape!" he snapped. "Krit! I'd rather be stuck on Tatooine than be here with you!"

"That can be arranged!" the Dark Lord rumbled, leaving Luke with a queasy feeling in his stomach. It sounded like his dad was actually getting mad.

"I'm kidding," he mumbled grudgingly. "I'm sorry I wasn't quiet. I'll be quiet now."

The Sith shook his head. "You do not understand." The anger vanished from his tone as quickly as it had arisen, but now he sounded disappointed, which was a thousand times worse.

Luke blinked, thinking quickly. "I broke a promise. I _do_ understand. I'm sorry. I just... I didn't think that saying I'd be quiet was really a promise... it was more like a... hope."

A strange rasping sound startled him. Was that a laugh? He offered his father a tentative smile.

Vader walked toward his desk, almost like he was stalling. Luke watched carefully, practicing being quiet as he waited for his father to speak. Eventually he did.

"To give your word is a matter of honor. In the end, all a man has is his honor." His dad paused. "Every person makes mistakes. One cannot always keep one's word, but it is important to keep your honor. If your word must be broken, it should only be in the most extreme circumstance, for a critical reason."

Luke's feet shifted as he moved uneasily. "You mean I lost my honor because I didn't keep quiet enough?"

One black-gloved hand gestured sharply. "A promise is too important to be given lightly. Before you make a vow, consider if you truly intend and will have the ability to keep it."

He had a feeling that there was more to this lesson than Vader was saying. His dad was probably leaving the rest of it for him to figure out himself. Luke nodded. "Okay," and since that seemed inadequate, he added, "I'll think more about it."

"Good. And _now_ have you completed your sulking?"

Luke grinned. "Mmm... I'm not sure."

"That's a pity. I had thought you might enjoy an excursion with me, but perhaps another time." The Sith turned to leave.

"Wait!" he said quickly. "What excursion?"

"A short trip in my personal shuttle. Deep space sprites have been spotted. I thought you might find the experience of viewing them to be interesting and informative. However..."

"Wow, space sprites!" Luke had no idea what those were, but didn't want to reveal his ignorance. "I'll go!" He hastened to his father and looked up at him. "I don't have to be quiet on this excursion, do I?"

"You do not," Vader affirmed.

"Okay." Luke followed him into the corridor. "And even though you didn't ask, you're forgiven."

"I see. For...?"

"For being cranky," he answered cheerfully. Then, because his father seemed to be in a good mood - and because he wasn't _quite_ forgiven - Luke decided to point out something that he'd realized. "You know, you made a couple mistakes earlier today."

"Indeed. I am certain that you will edify me as to the nature of these mistakes."

"Indeed I will. One," he held up a finger as they waited for a lift, "you called me Lu— by my full name in the lift and two," second finger raised, "you gave me the audiopad _after_ you told me you wanted me to meditate instead."

"You are correct," Vader agreed, and Luke smiled smugly. His cheeky grin died, though, when his father continued, "After our excursion, you may spend the rest of the evening in meditation."

"Krit," he grumbled under his breath, though his heart was light. "Thwarted again!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Truth Interludes: Chapter 4](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24578542/chapters/59420803) follows this chapter


	2. Deep Space Sprite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke has an excursion with Dad and helps him mellow.

"I am sorely tempted," Darth Vader said, "to strap down your hands."

Luke sent his father a disgusted look. "I won't touch anything - I  _ promise." _ All right, the shuttle's controls were right in front of him, practically begging for him to use them, and maybe his dad was reading his mind - but he'd made a promise and after that sobering lecture on the same subject, he wasn't going to break it. But if Vader didn't trust him...

"Very well."

Surprised, he blinked and smiled, then stared out at space like he hadn't noticed his father trusting him. His fingers began to tap restlessly on the arm-grips of the copilot's seat, so he forced them to curl around the edges.  _ Keep still, damnit! _ "What're those?" he asked, trying to distract his fingers.

"What?"

"The sparkly things. It looks like blowing sand. But there's no wind in space, right?"

"Those are deep space sprites."

_ "Those _ things?" he exclaimed, disappointed. "But... they're nothing. Just dots."

"What were you expecting?"

"Well... you know..." Luke shifted uncomfortably. He hated looking like an idiot. "You said sprites, so I thought sprites... you know... naked little girls with wings."

Vader uttered a very large noise that made Luke jump. Then he realized it must have been a bark of laughter. For a second he was embarrassed, but he decided that anything he could do to mellow his old man was a good thing. "I have a naked little sprite tattooed on my... um..."

"You do not. You have one tattoo, which may be removed."

The amusement in Vader's voice so distracted him that he almost missed the threat. "Oh, yeah?" He recovered quickly. "I'm keeping my tattoo! It's an expression of my personal freedom. In fact, I'm going to get another one, an x-wing fighter."

"An unfortunate choice. I would prefer you kept the TIE."

"There's nothing wrong with an x-wing," he mumbled, disconcerted by his father's sudden agreeableness. "It's not my fault - I mean," he corrected hastily, remembering another lecture, "I agree that it's unfortunate that the x-wing has become the primary combat vehicle used by the rebels, but that doesn't detract from its overall... uh... fly-worthiness."

"Point taken," Vader said, his surprise not hidden from Luke's senses. "However, I feel that one tattoo is adequate as any young man's expression of freedom."

"Okay," he agreed quickly before his dad changed his mind again. "If you won't let me have another tattoo, I'll get pierced. Maybe my tongue."

"As long as the piercing comes with a closure mechanism."

Luke rolled his eyes and looked to the side, struggling to hide his grin from his dad. The holonews had never shown this side of Darth Vader, his wit and humor. What else didn't he know about his sire?

His attempt at solemnity was hopeless. He burst into laughter, both at his dad's joke and his own overwhelming happiness.

"You find my statement amusing?"

"I'm not laughing  _ at _ you," he said hastily, knowing how fast his father could change moods, "I'm laughing  _ with _ you."

"I am not laughing."

"Oh." Vader didn't sound even a little convincing, Luke decided. "That's an unfortunate choice."

The Sith sighed. "Do you wish to learn about sprites or not?"

"Sure," he answered cheerfully. "I'll learn whatever you want to teach me, Dad."

"It is bad enough that you  _ think _ that ridiculous word," his father said snappishly. "Do not  _ say _ it."

"All right, all right!" He out-sighed his father loudly and dramatically. "Go ahead, tell me about sprites. Hey, maybe I have them confused with angels! Are angels naked girls with wings? Have you ever seen one?"

He was noticing that when it took his father a long time to respond to a simple question, that meant the question wasn't as simple as Luke had intended. Or the answer wasn't. He wanted to tell his dad to never mind, it wasn't important, just tell him about sprites, when Vader began to speak.

"Once. Or at least I thought I had. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. But she was no angel; she was only human, with all the flaws and frailties of our species. She wished for the impossible... and would settle for nothing less."

Luke let the silence stretch for awhile, hoping to hear more, but it finally became obvious that his father was lost in his memories. "What happened to her?" he prompted.

Vader roused himself physically, shifting in the pilot's seat. "I risked everything to save her, but she betrayed me and I killed her. Or... I thought I had killed her. Now I don't even know if she truly betrayed me. I suppose I will never know," he added in a near-whisper.

"Oh." Luke stared out at the rapidly disappearing sprites. The heaviness of his father's mood was smothering. It filled the cabin, oppressive and stifling. No wonder, with all those dark thoughts. How could his dad kill someone he wanted to save? "Can I fly?" he asked, anxious to lighten the atmosphere.

"What?"

"Can I fly the shuttle? You said you'd teach me. Now would be a good time, don't you think?" He forced a smile as the blank mask turned toward him. "Please?"

Vader looked away. "Rest your hands on the controls."

"You're gonna let me fly?" Really, he had no idea that a simple 'please' could work so well!

"I will take the craft through some common maneuvers. Rest your hands around the copilot's throttle and panel. They will reflect my control. Feel the way the ship responds to different pressures and movements."

It wasn't real flying, but it was the closest he'd come since his old 'hopper. Time seemed to speed past as his father ran through simple moves first, then took them into trickier ones - a spin that left Luke's stomach somewhere in the rear compartment, sideways swoops that made him laugh and Vader chuckle, and some heart-thumping action that involved racing backward, then shooting straight up.

"Wow!" he breathed when the shuttle slowed again. "That was something else!"

"Adequate," his father said smugly, "for a shuttle. Fighters are much more responsive and agile."

"Really? I thought this was pretty amazing!" Luke stretched his arms up, punching his fists in the air in pure glee.

"Leave your hands on the controls," Vader said mildly. "A pilot never relinquishes command of his vessel."

"I'm not piloting," he protested, though he curled one hand around the throttle and ran the other over the panel of buttons, enjoying the power he felt thrumming beneath them.

"You are," his father said so quietly that it took a second to sink in.

"I  _ am?"  _ He snatched his hands away, then hastily put them back. "I'm not! You're messin' with me!"

Two black-gauntleted hands rested on the arms of the pilot's seat.

Luke gulped. Tentatively, he pushed the throttle to the right, sending the ship into a sharp dive. "Whoa!"

"This shuttle does not respond to verbal commands."

"Very funny!"

"Remember what you learned, how the controls felt when I was piloting." Vader's voice lowered, becoming soft and hypnotic. "Do not think about what you need to do. Close your eyes... close them, Luke... and now simply become part of the ship. It will respond to your slightest wish... gently... yes, like that, good. Become the ship... see what it sees... feel for asteroids, space debris, anything that might be in your way... avoid it or move it aside. Do not be frightened, I am with you... you can feel my presence... you can feel the shuttle... and still you feel yourself, separate yet one with everything that surrounds you. Good boy."

He wanted to open his eyes but he could almost see better with them closed. He felt things around him, unfamiliar things, living things, yet he wasn't afraid of them. And it wasn't just because his dad was with him. All the strangeness wasn't scary... it wasn't even all that strange. It was stuff that was inside him, had always been inside him, hiding, waiting for this moment. Waiting for him to wake up.

"Good. Now open your eyes."

It was difficult to adjust to a reality that seemed suddenly one-dimensional. Luke blinked a few times, struggling to rouse himself. There was a big ship in the distance. "Where are we?"

"You have flown for nearly one hour and brought us back to the Devastator. I will take over the final approach. Rest."

"I'm tired," he complained sleepily. "What was that?"

"In time, these experiences will not tire you and you will have more awareness and control. 'That' was the Force. You connected with it like..." Vader sighed.

"Yeah?" Luke mumbled.

"Like a natural. Like I did." That was definitely pride in his father's tone. "You have done very well, my son. Now rest. I will take care of the rest."

"Okay," he yawned. "Tha's a really, really big ship. An' you're the boss of it."

"Yes. Go to sleep."

He didn't have the energy to answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Truth Interludes: Chapter 4](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24578542/chapters/59420017) follows this chapter


	3. Sweet Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, Luke!  
> But it’s Empire Day, the day Vader hates above all others.  
> Angst and fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Corresponds with FFN 33

The only good thing about living on the ship was being near his dad. Otherwise it was pretty boring. He was stuck inside all the time with nothing interesting or fun to do. He missed fresh air, walking on the ground, climbing hills, sunlight, nighttime, new people, old friends, and young people in general. Studying, even the Force training his dad was doing with him, was no substitute for friends. As the months had passed, Vader had allowed him a little more freedom. The latest 'privilege' was that he could use the officer's lounge. "Big deal," Luke muttered, standing in the doorway of the spacious room, studying the possibilities.

Days ago he had reached an inescapable conclusion: officers were boring. Or maybe they were like him, bored because they were stuck on the ship. They read a lot or talked privately, shutting up and smiling politely (though warily) when he approached. There were always games of one sort or another going on, but they involved gambling and his dad didn't give him an allowance.

Today was no different than any other day. There was nothing for him to do here, and his dad was acting incommunicado, locked in his quarters, probably meditating or doing something equally dull. With a discouraged sigh, Luke left the rec area and walked slowly back toward his room. Waiting for the lift, he noticed that the call plate was loose and began to pry it from the wall. Maybe he could fix –

"Move along. Move along."

He glared up at the recorded voice. Every time he touched something, that damned voice echoed out of a speaker! He just knew that somewhere in the ship an ensign was watching his every move and taking delight in pushing a button to initiate the scolding voice. "Someday I'll find you!" he threatened loudly to the ceiling.

Two passing officers stared at him, then averted their gazes.

Scowling, he stomped into the lift. Today of all days, he deserved a little fun. It was his _birthday!_ He was finally sixteen and here he was, little more than a prisoner on an Imperial warship. If it wasn't for his dad –

His dad couldn't have _forgotten_ his birthday, could he? Wait - did he even _know_ it was Luke's birthday? "I'll bet he doesn't!" That explained the silence. Well, maybe with a little poke-in-the-ribs reminder his dad would arrange for a cake and come up with a great gift... maybe his own shuttle – or better, lightsaber lessons! It was about time his dad let him practice with a real lightsaber instead of a stick.

Out of the lift, he turned right and headed for Dad Vader's quarters. The door didn't slide open for him like it usually did. _Son to Dad,_ he sent _. I need to tell you something really important._

Nothing. Luke leaned his forehead against the door and thumped it a few times, not too hard. _Are you meditating? Let me in and I'll wait quietly until you're done._ He could do that now, be quiet. It had taken a lot of practice – and some reminding from his dad – but Luke considered it quite an achievement. _Please?_

Success! Cautiously he stepped inside and peered around. It was darker than usual; in fact, nearly all the lights were out. The viewscreen at the far end was open and Luke went to stand in front of it, staring out at the starfield. They were probably tracking down Rebels again, which meant another battle that he could only watch, his dad decreed, from the safety of this very spot. It wasn't that he was anxious to fight the Rebels; he still hadn't figured out if he was for them or against them. But when his dad went out in a TIE, Luke desperately wanted to be with him just in case the worst happened. If his dad was going to die, Luke wanted to be with him. Well... preferably he would save them both with some heroic act, but if not, then he'd rather die with his dad than go back to his old life. Or worse, become King Ugly's slave.

He leaned backward and peeked around the corner. The meditation pod was closed. Someday he wanted to get in there and shut it, just to see what it was like, but his dad had made him promise not to, which made the attempt more difficult. Promises, honor, studying endlessly, Force training, keeping quiet... his dad demanded a lot from him, but so far nothing that Luke hadn't been able to accomplish.

He decided to use this quiet time to identify the few planets that were visible and remind himself of what he'd learned about them. Civilizations, industry, agriculture, sports teams... That occupied him for a several minutes until he heard the whoosh of the pod opening. He practiced patience and remained still, hands clasped loosely behind his back, not turning until he heard his father's breathing.

Smiling cautiously because he sensed some tension in the older man, he said, "Hi. Is this a bad time?"

 _"A bad time?"_ Vader echoed, and Luke flinched at the sharpness.

"Uh...yeah. I can come back later. Later today, I mean, because—"

 _"Today?"_ the Sith interrupted. "This day that I have despised beyond all others, every year for the last sixteen years? Why would you think this is a _bad time?"_

Dumbfounded, Luke stared at his father. His mouth was hanging open and he knew he must look stupid, but he couldn't think of one single thing to say. "Uh..."

"Every year, this hated day reminds me of the worst moments of my life – _as if I require reminding!"_ Vader began to pace, most of his words turning into mumbles that Luke couldn't hear. But others were way too clear. "... Padme... nightmare..."

Oh. It was becoming clear. "I didn't mean to kill her," Luke whispered miserably. "I couldn't help being born."

A few more mumbles, then Vader whirled and stalked over to him. "What are you blathering about?" he demanded.

"My mother!" he snapped back, his own anger rising. "She died giving birth to me, right? Is that why you're mad at me?"

"You are making no sense."

More than anything, he hated when his father said that to him, especially in such a scornful tone. "It's my BIRTHDAY!" he shouted. "It's my birthday and I killed my mother and that's why you hate this day!"

Vader jerked back. "Your birthday?" He shook his head and then said, "I see. Yes, of course. Padme had to live long enough to bear you." The helmet tilted to one side. "But you did not kill her, young one. I did."

Luke took a few deep breaths. "What do you mean?"

The Dark Lord crossed to the viewport. The light from a thousand stars reflected off the helmet. "Obi-Wan must have kept her alive long enough to give birth. Then he stole you. That explains much." A long, ragged sigh came from his father. "My master did not lie to me as I feared; I _did_ kill my beloved."

"What?" He sank into a hard chair, staring at the cloaked figure. "Why?"

"She was my angel," Vader whispered as if to himself. "I loved her above all others."

_...she was no angel; she was only human... I risked everything to save her, but she betrayed me and I killed her..._

It felt like there wasn't any air for him to breathe. Luke struggled to inhale before he could force out the words. "Then I guess it's good that you don't love me. Maybe I'll live for awhile longer."

Silence lasted so long that he thought maybe Vader hadn't heard him. Which would be for the best; that had probably been a stupid thing to say. But eventually his father turned.

"I have been too protective of you; I see that now. You do not know me as a Sith Lord. You do not understand and appreciate the acts of which I am capable. You do not respect my Dark powers. You do not respect _me."_

"Sure I do," he said hastily. "I'm sorry, I just meant — "

One gauntleted hand raised for silence. "Let us become better acquainted. I will tell you some of what I have done in my life, so that you will not be surprised in the future," Vader said quietly.

"I really don't want — "

"You 'wants' do not concern me. Sit," he commanded in a strong voice when Luke began to rise. "You will listen. You will learn of my path to the Dark Side. When I have finished, you will know me better than anyone, save my master. Then you will understand your own path and your future in the Empire."

His stomach twisted. He had a bad feeling that what he was about to hear would be awful, like the massacre on Falleen. "Father, you don't — "

"Silence. I will not tell you again." Darth Vader pulled out a chair and sat opposite him, their knees almost touching, so that Luke was forced to stare at the emotionless mask. "My path to true power began on Tatooine when I was much younger than you..."

-— -—-

He felt ill... no, _old._ Luke stared out at the starfield. He often saw Vader standing here, and he supposed that he'd begun subconsciously imitating his father.

The thought disturbed him, and he turned his back on the stars, slouching against the viewport. How far could imitation go before his wrong choices began to mirror his father's? Force knew, he'd already made a lot of wrong choices in his sixteen years... but none had had the repercussions of the choices Anakin Skywalker had made.

Or had they? He had ended up here, in Vader's custody, destined to follow in his footsteps. Why should he hope to turn out differently?

 _Free will,_ his conscience whispered. "Choices," he agreed aloud. "The choices I make will determine my future... not some weird prophecy or a 'destiny' that I have no direction over."

He sent a troubled look at the closed meditation pod. Vader had finished his long recitation of evil acts – almost like he was purging himself and shifting the burdens to his son – then retreated to the pod without further comment, leaving Luke to brood alone.

If his father's synopsis of his life could be summed up in a couple words, Luke decided the words would be 'obsession' and 'love'. Both the lack of love and the overpowering force of it. His dad had very little compassion for masses of beings, but possessive and self-absorbed love for a few. That combination made life dangerous for him and everyone who came in contact with him.

Love and obsession were not traits that Luke felt he shared with his father, and maybe his lack of intensity would save him. Oh, he could love, but his love was quieter, steadier... and rarely given. Despite the atrocities he had heard described today, he still loved his father. _Darth Vader._ He loved Darth Vader, the man the galaxy feared. Strangely, he felt no fear. Today he had heard of murders his father had committed - horrifically violent acts committed even against children, ugly acts that had brought involuntary tears to his eyes - but instead of making him feel afraid or hate his dad, he felt sad for him. His dad needed someone to take care of him and teach him the difference between right and wrong. There wasn't anyone who could do that except Luke Skywalker, so...

"Krit. I have to reform."

Well, okay. He could be a hero, all good and pure and just. He fervently hoped he wouldn't end up being boring, too. Luke crossed to his father's meditation pod and sat on the floor outside it, determined to out-wait Vader's sulking. What he really wanted to do was run away. Escape to a planet, find some air to breathe, be free again, do whatever he wanted even if it was something stupid like rolling down a dune –

"So. You wish to flee from me."

Luke started. "How did you get out without me hearing?" He turned and studied the Dark Lord. Anger still roiled just below the surface – ah, that was why he hadn't heard the pod opening, his mind was overwhelmed by his father's emotions. Anger and... _fear._ Yeah, Darth Vader was afraid. Afraid of losing again. "Not really," he replied, carefully gauging his dad's mercurial mood. "I'd like to be out of this ship for awhile. On a planet. With air and ground. Sort of like a vacation."

Vader sat back in the chair. Bright lights reflected on his helmet and armor. Maybe that's what he did in the pod, get shined and polished. "You are afraid of me now."

Luke tilted his head. Vader couldn't read him as well as he could read his dad. "No." His voice was soft. "I suppose I should be, but I'm not." The air between them was tense, as if his dad was waiting for... what? The rejection that he saw as inevitable? "You're my father."

Black-gloved fingers clenched around the arms of the chair. Luke felt his heart like it was thumping against his ribs. He swallowed. "The things you've done... that you've told me about... they sicken me. I don't understand how you can kill so easily, especially little kids. But..." To his horror, he felt tears welling in his eyes. He swiped his shirt sleeve across them. "But you're still my dad," he said, choking on the simple words, "and I love you."

In the quiet that followed, Vader made a small beckoning gesture. Luke scooted over on the floor, leaning back against his dad's leg. A gloved hand rested heavily on his head, and they relaxed in a companionable silence.

"What am I going to do with you?" his father mused eventually.

"What are your choices?" Luke grinned, happy to stay just as they were at this moment.

"Hide you, kill you, let Palpatine have you."

Ouch. "If those are the only choices, I'd prefer the first one."

Vader didn't respond to that suggestion. "There are only ever two Sith at a time. A master and an apprentice."

"So I can be your apprentice! No, wait!" He changed his mind. "I don't want to be a Sith... do I?"

"I am the apprentice," Vader said heavily. "Palpatine is my master, Darth Sidious."

Luke sighed. "Why do you guys always have so many names? Anakin Skywalker was a perfectly good name, you didn't have to change it.”

"You are avoiding the issue at hand."

"What issue?" He pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. "You mean that there's no room for me to be a Sith? Fine, I don't want to be one anyway. I could be your... assistant or something. I'll study hard." Vader's cruel words from weeks ago came back to him. "If I get smart enough, will I be of use to you?"

"You are my son. You are priceless to me."

"Oh." He hid a pleased smile in his sleeve. "So I can be your helper. Or...did you really mean it when you said you might give me to King Ugly? I don't want to be a slave."

"Is that how you see _me,_ as his slave?" The tone was dangerously low.

"Do you always do what he tells you to?" he retorted.

"Usually, because he's right."

"But not always?" He turned his head to look at his father's mask. "Does he know about me?"

"I am certain he does, though I have said nothing to him."

He leaned back again, unwilling to lose this rare moment of physical and emotional closeness. "Someday he'll call you back to Imperial City, won't he? Then what will you do with me?"

"That, my child, is the problem."

It was finally becoming clear. "You don't want to take me to him." His dad didn't reply. "Why not? I mean, that's great, I don't want to go, but... why not?"

Vader sighed raggedly, hesitating before admitting, "You are all I have. I will not lose you."

"Figures," Luke replied sarcastically, though he was actually deeply touched, "for a second, I thought it would be about _me,_ but noooooo, it's always about you."

The Sith Lord stood abruptly. "Out!" he thundered, pointing toward the door. "Go study! Make yourself useful! Find something to do! Go!"

"Fine." Luke got to his feet, grumbling under his breath. "Tell a guy the truth and look what happens. Always so grouchy. Why can't – Hey!" He raised his voice. "It's my birthday, remember? You owe me a present." He ignored the fact that Darth Vader now had his hands planted on his waist in that intimidating stance he liked to affect. "How about a real lightsaber lesson? Or a flying lesson? Or a cake? A cake would be good..." His voice trailed off, but he refused to surrender. He copied Vader's stance. "I'm your son, you love me even if you don't wanna say it – so how about at least a 'Happy Birthday, Son'?"

The big arms lowered and Vader shook his head, but it wasn't a negative. "Very well. A flying lesson, 1900 hours."

"Great!" He backed slowly toward the door. "A cake would not be amiss."

"'Amiss'?" his father quoted.

"I'm sticking with small new words for awhile."

"A wise decision."

"Yeah. See ya." Once at the door, he slipped through quickly.

Humor was the easiest way to deal with his dad, but it didn't change the harsh facts. Somehow he had to get his head around the realities of Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker and how a hero could transform into something quite different.

It happened to his dad; Luke didn't want it to happen to him, too.


	4. Torn-Apart Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Corresponds with FFN 34

A squad of TIES's was lined up in the hangar bay, surrounded by mechanics who crawled under and climbed over them. Darth Vader stood in the center of the flurry of activity, arms folded, probably giving everyone heart palpations by his silent presence.

Luke kicked a lost bolt in front of him like a ball as he criss-crossed the wide expanse and finally stopped next to his dad, capturing the bolt under his foot. "Expecting trouble?" he asked. "Or just hoping for it?"

"I always expect trouble." His dad looked down on him. "It is imperative to keep fighting vessels in peak condition, ready for immediate launch."

He knew a lecture when he heard one. "Yessir! I'll remember that when I'm put in command."

"Good," Vader said dryly. "Let us reinforce the importance of this lesson. Take that TIE," he pointed, "and follow me out."

"Who, me?" he said stupidly, feeling his eyes go wide. "By myself? My own ship? You mean-- " But his dad was striding off toward another TIE. Thrilled, Luke followed hurriedly, climbing into the vessel that Vader had selected for him. His dad had pointed out the basics of the controls, but he'd never flown one. Vader must be feeling really guilty about forgetting his birthday to let him do this.

His pulse was fluttering erratically as he maneuvered the TIE out of the dock. Oddly, the space seemed a lot smaller than when he and his dad had taken out bigger ships. It was enough to rattle a guy's nerves, but he managed not to hit the sides of the docking bay (okay, his TIE was actually dwarfed by the bay doors, but it still felt tight) and get safely into open space where he could follow his dad's TIE. His maneuvering was a little irregular at first, but within a couple minutes he had the feel of the ship and was experimenting, looping and curving as he followed his dad's straight path away from the Devastator.

"Where are we going?" he asked over the voice-activated inter-ship com.

"We are not 'going' anywhere. We are moving clear of the ship so that you may practice."

"As if I would hit the Devastator," he teased. "You have no faith in me."

"I have faith in the Force, young one, including the Force in you."

"Oh." He supposed that was Deeply Meaningful, since his father talked about the Force like it was a religion, but it was hard to feel pious about virtuous words coming from a man who'd done the things his father had done. Still, despite what he'd done, Vader was second in command of the galaxy, so Luke felt he had a lot of wiggle room when it came to any mistakes he might make. Not that he would ever do anything of the magnitude his dad had done, like killing little--

His ship jolted and rocked. "Hey! What?"

"Pay attention. You are under attack." With that, his dad fired off another practice burst.

Luke reacted immediately, but not quickly enough to totally avoid being 'hit'. "You should've warned me!"

"Enemies will give no warning – neither will friends. You must always be prepared to defend yourself. You are armed. Fire at me."

"Armed? Not with real—" He jerked the stick back and sped away from another flash from his dad's weapons. _So you wanna play rough? Okay, watch this!_

It turned out to be a real struggle to get the other TIE in his sights. His dad was a helluva pilot, no argument there. Vader took the little fighter through maneuvers Luke had never seen, not even in a holo-game. Luke would get the TIE in his crosshairs, but it would vanish before he could fire. After several minutes of getting more and more frustrated, he shouted, "Hold still!" and, surprisingly, his dad did. The TIE lined up beautifully in his scope. He held his breath, pulled the trigger, and – the fake laser exploded harmlessly in the empty place where the TIE had been.

Luke dredged up every curse he could remember.

"Language," his father chastised over the com.

 _"Language?"_ Wow, his dad sure had his priorities screwed up. "You sure have your priorities screwed up," he called, putting in motion a brilliant idea that had just occurred to him. "You wipe out the Jedi, you massacre children, you kill your wif-– "

"How dare you!" Darth Vader shouted, and Luke took the opportunity to fire his weapons.

"Gotcha," he declared smugly, watching the other TIE wobble.

"Congratulations. Winning by cheating is still a victory. Of course, you have lost your honor again."

"What?" He flushed angrily and fired again, but this time his dad was faster. Vader's ship flipped over, raced above Luke and dropped down on his tail, firing harmless blasts that Luke was hard pressed to avoid. His father's condemnation was a distraction. It wasn't fair! How could his dad criticize him after the things he'd done? "I didn't _cheat,"_ he mumbled, with so little conviction that he didn't even persuade himself.

"You – " His dad was interrupted when, without warning, two teardrop-shaped ships dropped from nowhere some distance in front of them. Were they Rebels or pirates? As Luke stared, mesmerized, blazing missiles shot from their deployed foils, streaking by him close enough to make his TIE vibrate.

"Get back to the ship!" Vader barked harshly.

"I'm not leaving you here alone!" He craned his neck, looking around for the fast-moving vessels. "Those were just warning shots! Who are they?"

"Back to the ship!" His dad's TIE dove in front of him. "That's an order!"

"I'm not-- "

"You have no weapons!" Vader roared, and he fired at the intruders, proving that his ship carried more armament than just practice lasers.

Luke couldn't bring himself to obey. Besides, a rush of TIE's exploded from the Devastator, jetting around him as they headed out toward the attackers. Not that they were needed. Two bright flashes appeared in quick succession, and both ships were obliterated by his dad's skill.

The TIE's swarmed like insects, some of them returning to the landing bay while the rest began to patrol in orderly formation as if they expected further attacks. Luke flew behind his father back to the ship, dismayed to note that he was shaking – but with excitement, not fear. He made an Academy-perfect landing, jumped down from the TIE, paused to be sure his knees would hold him upright, then rushed over to his dad.

He waited until Vader finished speaking with the squad commander and dismissed him. Luke grinned. "Next time, I get real guns! I want to fight, too! That was terrific— you were amazing!"

The Sith Lord stared at him, and Luke could have sworn that the mask was scowling. "Today you have seen once again how easy – and how _satisfying_ – it is to kill," the voice hissed. "We are not unalike, boy."

Shocked, Luke watched his father stalk away in a dramatic swirl of midnight. A shiver ran through him. He hated when Vader held up a mirror and he saw himself reflected. He'd been born Son of Vader, and over the last year he supposed he'd earned that label. But it no longer seemed like such an evil person to be. He and his dad shared a lot of feelings and abilities, both good and bad. It was just a question of how and what they chose to use. There was no reason his dad couldn't change his mind and decide to be good. It was never too late to change. Biggs had told him that a couple times, and Luke hadn't really appreciated its significance until now.

It was a great lesson and he was determined to teach it to his father. The question was: how? His dad carried a lot of guilt, but it was protected and held in place by a wall of defiance and anger that wasn't too hard to penetrate with little jabs and humor. But how to tear it down completely and reach deep inside his father to help him change? Was that even possible?

And how was he going to change his dad when _he_ still did things like cheating?

"Did you enjoy your first close look at battle, Luke?"

He turned away from watching his dad scold the admiral. "Hey, Cap," he said with a touch of unease. "Yeah, I guess... I didn't get to fight."

"Perhaps the next time Lord Vader takes you for practice, you will be armed." Piett looked slightly perplexed, as if he couldn't decide whether Luke should have weapons or not.

"Probably." He had visions of accidentally blasting his dad to smithereens. "Maybe. Who were they, do you know?"

"Lord Vader suspects they were hijackers." Piett frowned. "Whoever or whatever they expected to hijack, I'm sure they were as startled to drop out of hyperspace and see the Devastator as we were to see them."

They walked through the hangar bay, Luke only partially paying attention as the captain made visual inspections of the fighters. He wondered if Piett knew that Vader was his father. It would be great to have someone to talk to... ah, but there was no way an officer would speak honestly about his dad. Everyone was too afraid of the Sith. Everyone except him.

"Would you let me work down here?" he asked impulsively. "I'm really good at fixing things, and I swear I wouldn't hurt the ships."

Piett just stared at a point over his head.

Luke shifted his feet. "I want to – to contribute. I've been here for _months_ with nothing to do."

"Nothing to do?" a deep voice repeated.

Wincing, he turned around to face Lord Vader. "You," the Dark Lord pointed at Luke, "come with me. I will give you something to do."

Luke sighed as he watched his father's retreating back. Piett gave him a small, possibly sympathetic, smile, the kind of good-bye smile you gave to someone on their way to execution. "Perhaps we can find a way for you to contribute – if Lord Vader permits."

"That'll be the day." Luke followed his dad into the corridor and tagged behind him on a wordless journey that ended in his dad's practice room. "What're we doing here?" he asked, though it was obvious – his dad was going to let him have the lightsaber lesson he'd asked for. He must feel guiltier than Luke realized.

Vader didn't answer – always an unnerving sign – but instead waved his hand at a cabinet across the room that obediently opened to reveal a lightsaber.

"Take it. Not that way," Vader scolded when Luke began to walk over. "Use the Force."

He closed his eyes, focusing the way he'd been taught. As if he were dreaming, his hand extended, fingers opening. The saber rattled, but didn't moved. He tried again, concentrating harder. To his relief, it raised into the air and floated over.

Half a meter from his outstretched hand, it clattered to the floor.

"Sorry," he apologized nervously, bending to retrieve it. "I wish I could do that as well as you." Maybe some flattery would mellow out the big guy. "My teleporting is sort of hit-and-miss. Hey, this is my lightsaber from Tatooine!" He flicked it on. The blade made a loud humming noise and sent a vibration running along his arm. "Krit, it's heavier than it looks." He hefted it in both hands and swung it in figure eights. "Cool! Where's the practice droid?"

"Right here." Darth Vader snapped on his own fire-red saber.

Luke swallowed. "You, uh... want me to practice with _you?"_ Dueling Vader on one of his happy days would be intimidating, but on a cranky day... "Maybe that's not the greatest idea for my first time. I might accidentally – "

"Block."

The red saber swung and Luke instinctively crossed it with his own blade, staggering back under the power behind the strike. It wasn't followed by a second blow, so he lowered the saber to his side. "Really, I think I should practice with a droid, don't you think? I wouldn't want to – "

"Block."

Three powerful blows, one after the other in quick succession. He managed to parry one and dance out of the way of the other two. "Dad, what're you--?"

"You require discipline. Stop talking and block properly."

Oh, Sithspit! The blows kept coming, pushing him backward in circles around the room. Never vicious blows, but Vader was aggressive, pushing him, challenging him, and worse – Vader was getting angry, Luke could feel it in the depths of his soul.

What idiot was just gloating that he wasn't afraid of Darth Vader! What moron had thought that he knew how to 'handle' Vader? Krit!

That would be the same idiotic moron who was now out of breath and half-stumbling. "Stop! Okay, I surrender! Whatever! I'm done! Stop!"

"You have more to learn. Why should I obey you when you do not obey me?" The next blow was the hardest yet, and he reeled back, barely able to hang onto his saber.

So _that_ was what this was about! Just because he didn't want to leave his dad behind to die in battle, he was being punished! "Bastard!" he shouted, his own anger flaring to life and driving away the fear. A surge of adrenaline gave him strength and he slashed wildly at his father. The blow glanced off his dad's arm and he hesitated, horrified, holding his breath as his dad grunted in pain. Then Vader's blade swung so quickly that it was barely a brilliant flash in the air, but it sent his lightsaber flying. It turned itself off as it skittered across the floor. But what was that wrapped around its hilt?

Luke stared at his hand. The lightsaber wasn't there and... his _hand_ wasn't there. There was his cuff and a little blood and—

He howled in shock and pain, clutching the wrist to his chest. Wide-eyed, he stared blankly at the motionless cloaked figure. He felt... strange. Light-headed. Woozy. Breathless. "D...Dad?"

The red light vanished and the dark figure let loose a string of curses, some of which Luke had never heard but hoped he would remember. "Language," he mumbled automatically.

"Hush." A strong arm locked around his shoulder and hustled him out of the room.

The... stump... began to throb. "Where's my hand?" Luke shivered. Leaning against the wall of the lift, he closed his eyes but the motion made him nauseous so he opened them again, willing himself not to throw up. What had just happened? He tried to look at Vader, but the elevator stopped and he was hurried along before he could focus.

They landed in sickbay. "Well, well," Doc said too cheerfully, "what have we here? An amputation? Did you bring the detached member, m'lord?"

Wordlessly, Vader handed the physician a hand. _My hand._ Luke stared at it. It didn't look alive. It wasn't moving. The fingers were curled as though they still held the lightsaber. "That's my hand," he said aloud, looking down at his cuff, expecting to see it there, too.

Doc turned the hand over, examining it with interest while Vader pushed Luke to sit on a gurney. Vader's hand pressed down on his shoulder, as if he thought Luke was going to float away. "I can't fly," he muttered.

"I know," Vader said quietly. "Well, Doctor?" and his voice changed suddenly, becoming loud and impatient.

"Impressive. Of course, as you are well aware, m'lord, lightsaber amputations can't be repaired." Doc kept talking, but Luke didn't hear the next bit. He would be one-handed for the rest of his life. Maybe he should be glad his dad hadn't aimed lower and cut off his legs. Like Kenobi had done to his dad. "...will take awhile to make one in the proper size. Luke, why don't you just relax..."

Without a clue how he got there, he found himself lying down. He yawned. There didn't seem much point in staying awake, so he...

... wasn't sleepy after all. Luke yawned again and stretched his arms over his hands, interlinking his fingers and –

 _Hands!_ He opened his eyes and stared at his outstretched limbs. Yeah, he had two hands! What a nightmare that had been! He could've sworn it was real, but—

"How are you feeling?"

His arms dropped to rest across his chest and he turned his head on the pillow. Doc was standing by his bed. "What're you doing here?"

"Where else would I be?"

"Uh..." This wasn't his quarters. "Where am... Oh." Sickbay. So it hadn't been a nightmare. "He chopped off my hand."

"Lightsabers don't chop, they slice."

"Too much information." Grimacing, he pushed himself into a sitting position. He felt dizzy for a few seconds, then he was fine. "You put my hand back on." He flexed the fingers a few times. They felt odd. Alien. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's a prosthetic." Doc held out his own (real?) hand and took hold of Luke's fingers. He pulled out a needle and poked three times before Luke snatched his hand away. "Do you feel that?"

"Yes! Stop stabbing me." His dad had all prosthetic limbs. Luke hadn't realized that fake ones appeared so real. Maybe his dad didn't look so bad under that armor. He turned the hand over. It even had lines in its palm... but not _his_ lines. "Do you think it will tan?"

"No."

Luke rubbed his hands together. They both got warmer. "It seems to work okay."

"Of course it does. I am an excellent surgeon." The medic studied his face. "If you grow further, it will need to be replaced."

"Oh." He had a vision of himself as big as his dad, with one tiny hand.

Machinery around sickbay hummed quietly, reminding him of the lightsaber. There wasn't much more to say about his hand, at least not to Doc. "Thanks for fixing it."

"You're welcome. Now it's time for you to surrender this bed for someone who needs it. You've been lounging here long enough." Doc opened a small cabinet behind him.

"I have?" He slid off the bed, finally noticing that he was wearing a plain green shirt and matching loose trousers. His legs were wobbly and his new hand rested on the bed to steady him. "How long have I been here?"

The physician tossed his clothes at him. "Nine days," he said shortly.

Luke picked up his tunic and looked first at the bloody cuff of his tunic, then at Doc. "Why? Did something go wrong?"

"Don't ask me, I'm only the doctor. I have no say about what goes on in sickbay – everything is done as His Lordship commands."

One day that sarcasm would get Doc in trouble. Although so far it had worked pretty well for Luke. "Okay, thanks anyway!" he called after the departing physician.

Hurriedly he pulled on his clothes. Nine days! Time to track down his father and find out what was going on. He paused and looked in the mirror, running his new hand through his hair. What a confusing mess... and what a memorable, horrible, awful, miserable, depressing, secret-revealing birthday it had been. The only part that remotely seemed fair was that every year from now on when his dad brooded about the worst day of his life, he would also have to remember that he had chopped off his son's hand on his birthday.

"Next year," he scolded his reflection, "just settle for a cake."

————-

His study tapes were crushed and strewn across the floor of his quarters, along with the remnants of his computer, desk, and chair. The hulking figure of Darth Vader waited for him amidst the wreckage, arms folded. There was no anger radiating from the Dark Lord, so Luke surmised that the destruction had taken place sometime in the intervening nine days. _You could have cleaned up,_ he thought, hoping that the message wasn't transmitted to his father.

Vader simply stared at him.

"I know why you were so mad," Luke said finally, after discarding several conversation openers that all involved accusations like _'why did you chop off my hand?'._

"Are you inferring that I mutilated you deliberately? I did not."

"I know." He rubbed the alien wrist. "But when something happens because you're angry, is it really an accident?"

His dad chose to ignore that question. "If I was angry, it was because I was worried. You disobeyed me. You could have been killed."

 _By the hijackers or by you?_ He shrugged. "That too, I suppose." He let the silence drag on until Vader was forced to ask:

"What else?"

His new palm was fascinating. Luke pretended to be engrossed in examining it. "Because of the things you told me that you didn't want to tell me."

"You are not making sense."

"Stop telling me that!" he snapped, exasperated. "You know _exactly_ what I mean! Now I know the worst about you, so what? Do you still think I’ll stop loving you?"

He expected some sort of gruff denial about love not being involved, but instead Vader sighed and uncrossed his arms. "Perhaps. But we have a more immediate problem than discussions of affection."

Well, (a) affection wasn't a _problem_ and (b)... "What problem?"

"The Emperor has sent for you."

The words were stark, the tone bleak. Luke felt something draining from him, as though his spirit was seeping out... or going into hiding. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he could speak. "Sent for _me?"_

Vader nodded. "You alone. Not me. I would not be there to protect you."

He swallowed and licked lips that were suddenly dry. "Is he going to... kill me?"

His father slowly crossed to the bed – the only unbroken piece of furniture – and sat heavily. "Possibly. It is more likely that he wishes to train you to kill me and take my place."

His head jerked back. "I'm not going to do that! He can't make me!"

"He could make you want to." The helmet turned toward him. "I stalled, keeping you unconscious and telling him you needed time to recuperate from your traumatic injury. However, I will not lose you, so there is only one alternative."

"We could hide _together,"_ Luke suggested, putting off the moment when he had to hear the inevitable words of separation. "Just the two of us. We could go live on the edge of the Outer Rim, where he wouldn't think to look for us."

"And one day I would regret all I had given up, lose my temper, and kill you as I killed your mother."

As scared as he felt, he understood that his father was more frightened of the impending separation than he was. But Vader's fear was darker, deeper; it was part of his essence. And he would never be free if he never gathered the courage to face it. "Then what?" Luke asked softly, anticipating the reply. "You're going to hide me? Pretend I’m not here?"

"You cannot be hidden close by, my son. Too many people here are aware of your presence, and he can sense you. Your Light burns too brightly. You must disappear. You must be far from me— as far as possible." Vader stood, suddenly galvanized into action. "I have packed your belongings." Luke's old backpack flew through the air, nearly knocking him over as he caught it.

"If you can't keep me here, then where am I going?"

"The orders I have and will execute fully state that you are going to Imperial City. However, your vessel will be hijacked, and Laze Loneozner and his pilot will become the newest members of the Rebel Alliance."

 _"What?_ For how long? Are you kidding?"

"I do not kid."

"Save that for your officers! I know you kid. Why would you want me to-– "

"Difficult as this may be for you to believe," Vader said mildly, gesturing for Luke to exit his quarters and into the wide corridor, "I have a plan."

"And are you going to share that plan with me?"

Vader's head inclined slightly in warning. "You are going to Imperial Center, young man, and I will brook no more discussion."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Yes, master." _We should've talked more before going into monitored areas,_ he pointed out. _Yoo-hoo! Can you hear me?_

_I hear you. We will be able to communicate this way in the future... if you are able to focus._

_I can focus, all right!_ he declared grimly, struck by the unhappy thought that momentarily he would be separated from his father. "Did you pack my 'hopper model?"

"No. You have no need for toys where you are going."

"It's not a toy." _So, you want to keep it for sentimental reasons!_

"Indeed." Vader hustled him toward a small bay off the main hangar where a sleek, long-range ship waited.

"Wow, what is that? It's gorgeous."

"It is a modified Naboo starfighter."

"Oh." That reminded him of his mother, but he kept the thought to himself. His father was quiet, too.

They stopped at the base of the ramp. "This is happening awfully fast," Luke said, his voice unexpectedly choking on the words. "Thank you for... everything. Except for chopping off my hand. If the Emperor decides to train me, maybe I'll see you again."

"Yes," said The Man of Few Words.

Luke nodded. "Okay... well... I guess I should get going." _What's going to happen? Who's going to hijack me? Is that your whole plan? What will I do when I get to the Alliance? Can we hug? When can I come home?_

"One of our best security officers is piloting you," Vader said threateningly, "so do not try anything foolish."

_Does that mean—_

The Dark Lord looked beyond him and raised his voice. "He is ready." His gaze returned to Luke. "You have been a good student. Go now."

"Just like that?" he demanded wildly, welling grief pushing aside caution.

"It is an honor to obey the Emperor. Go."

Before he could reply, he felt a soft cloud surround him. It was warm and glowing, filled with… love. It felt nothing like Darth Vader and yet… it did.

He smiled faintly and returned the emotion as best he could, hoping his father felt it. "Okay," he said quietly. Turning, he hurried up the ramp, casting a wary glance at the pilot.

"Welcome aboard," Lieutenant Karas Jovay said without a trace of recognition on his face.


	5. Fleeing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke must be hidden from the Emperor and flees the Devastator, but his escape is slightly different than Vader had planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Corresponds to FFN 35  
> I’m making corrections and changes here to the FFN version, relatively minor ones so far but who knows how that may change as I read through it after a gazillion years. In other words, Ao3 has the updated versions. :)

Luke came to a dead stop. "What're you doing here?" he demanded of Lieutenant Jovay, catching himself before he could continue aloud.

Okay, he was being left out in the cold and he didn't like it. His dad had a Plan, and for some reason the Mos Eisley Imperial Recruiting Officer was part of it. And they were in a public area where their conversation could be overheard, so he couldn't even _ask!_ Luke made an about-face and stomped back down the ramp to face his father. "I changed my mind, I don't want to go."

"The Emperor is bestowing an honor upon you by requesting your presence," Vader intoned.

 _Yeah, yeah._ Luke sighed. This mental-talk was hard. He was getting a headache. "I'd rather stay here and learn stuff. You wouldn't want me to neglect my education, would you?"

"More educational datatapes are in your pack."

"Oh." That explained the extra weight. Krit. He let the pack slip off his shoulder and drop to the deck. "I don't want to go," he repeated, trying not to whine. Why was he even bothering? His dad wouldn't be sympathetic and would only scold him. In the distance, he saw Captain Piett watching, his face mostly expressionless, but Luke sensed his concern.

 _Nor do I want you to leave,_ Vader's fierce thought echoed in Luke's head. _But you must, for both our sakes._ "You are going and you will be appropriately grateful for the honor."

"Yes, sir." _You'll miss me!_ The need to be hugged by his dad was becoming an almost physical ache. "Will I be coming back... here?" _Back to you?_

Both black gauntlets raised toward his face and Luke flinched. _Don't choke—_

The hands rested on his cheeks, cupping his head like it was as fragile as an egg. Which, of course, it would be if those hands decided to squeeze. "Make me proud," the Dark Lord commanded.

 _With the enemy?_ Luke pressed his face against the caress, trying to express his confusion and fears. _Do you want me to fight with them? Or spy on them? I don't understand._

"Keep up with your studies," Vader said smoothly. "Keep your mind open; be willing to accept new ideas, but with wisdom and caution. The Emperor can teach you much."

He nodded, waiting for a Thought from his father, but nothing came.

The hands dropped. "Your lightsaber is in your pack. Remember, it is your _life._ Keep it close always."

"But I don't know how to use it very well."

"When the need arises, when you are desperate, you will know how." _Listen to what I am saying, child._

"Okay." Bewildered, he gave the mask one last, searching look. "Be careful. I won't be here to look out for you."

"Thank you." A spark of amusement colored the deep voice, along with something gentler. "I will endeavor to remain safe without your protection."

"Okay, then." He backed toward the ramp. _We'll still be able to talk exactly like this, right?_

The helmet tilted. _As physical distance grows between us, it will become more difficult and will require more focus. Words may not be as clear as they are now, but I will feel your emotions. If you need me, you will be able to reach me._

"Okay," Luke repeated uncertainly, disliking the impending separation more with each step he took. Well, krit! He whirled and marched up the ramp like a soldier, passing into the ship and throwing back a single question.

_Can you hear me now?_

A mental sigh shuddered through their link, and Luke smiled, satisfied.

**OooOoo**

_Dad? Can you hear me now?_

_Do not call me that. I can hear you. Stop asking._

Luke craned his neck to look back at the shrinking Devastator. "I changed my mind."

Jovay didn't spare a glance for him. "Hmm?" he murmured absently, intent on whatever manipulations his fingers were doing with the ship's controls.

"I don't want to go," Luke stated. "Take me back to the ship."

Jovay didn't answer.

Luke sighed and leaned back in the copilot's seat. _Dad? Can you hear me now? Da-aaaad!_

_What!_

_I changed my mind. I want to stay with you._

_That is not possible._

_But—_

_I am busy. Cease interrupting with your pointless request._

He rolled his eyes. _Fine!_ "My father says you should turn the ship around and take me back."

"Funny, I didn't hear him say that."

"Of course you didn't! But I did. In my head."

Jovay grinned. "Good try, kid. I see that getting away from the dustball hasn't changed you much."

"Little do you know," Luke said grimly. Nothing about this was fair. He and his dad were still getting to know each other. They shouldn't be separated yet! It occurred to him that when they met, his dad already knew the worst about Luke and went ahead and taught him to be better. Now he knew the worst about Vader (at least, he _hoped_ it was the worst) and he wasn't allowed to stick around to help his dad. "I really, really need to go back."

"Luke." The young lieutenant swiveled in his chair. "Your father is sending you away to keep you safe. You know that."

Yeah, well... "Just who are you, anyway?" he challenged. "You're not really an Imp recruiter in Mos Eisley, are you?"

"Not anymore. I got a promotion," Jovay's smile turned smug, "to captain in Intelligence."

"What for? You let me get away!"

"Did I? Yet here you are." The officer's grin widened. "Maybe I got the promotion because I'm brilliant, clever, and handsome."

"Oh, brother! I am _so_ confused," Luke muttered. "Are we really going to the Rebel Alliance?"

"Yep."

"So... my dad is sending me to the enemy?" He struggled with the idea. "Why?"

Jovay shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe they're not the enemy."

"Don't do that, I'm confused enough!" Not for the first time, he wished he could read his father's mind and learn what was really going on. "What am I going to do there?"

"I have no idea. I'm not going with you. Somehow I don't think the Alliance would treat me gently if they discovered my secret identity as an Imperial Intel agent."

"What?" Oh, great! "But—I don't—Krit! My dad said you were staying with me!" _Da—aaaad! Can you hear me now?_

_Stop calling._

"Luke— _Oz_. If you can survive the streets of Mos Eisley, you can survive anything. You'll be fine."

The words were meant to be reassuring, but he wasn't feeling at all reassured. "Do you think I'm supposed to be a spy?"

"I don't know," Jovay repeated patiently. "Didn't your father tell you anything?"

"He said he has a Plan-with-a-capital-P," Luke said glumly, "but he didn't clue me in about it. He just told me we'd be 'hijacked' and end up at the Alliance."

"That was his intention."

 _"Was?"_ Slowly Luke turned his head and studied the other man. "Aren't you following his plan?" he asked suspiciously. _Oh-oh. Dad, can you hear me now?_

_Stop that._

_But—_

_Cease!_

"About now," Jovay said by way of an answer, "our hijackers are scheduled to appear." They were both quiet for a few moments before warning beeps began to sound. "Right on time."

Depressed, Luke stared at the two ships that were heading toward them from both sides.

"And about now— here we go." Jovay depressed a button and space turned into a blur. Luke was jerked back in his seat as they accelerated into hyperspace. The officer checked his instruments, then relaxed and looked over. "A slight alteration of Lord Vader's plan."

"Are you _kidnapping_ me?" Luke demanded, shocked by the audacity of the other.

"I wouldn't dare. I'm taking a different route, but the end result will be the same, you'll be with the insurgents." Jovay frowned, obviously disapproving, then continued after a resigned sigh, "I figured that what Vader _didn't_ know, the Emperor _couldn't_ know."

"Are you insinuating that my father would betray me?" He started to rise, ready to protect his dad's honor.

"No, I'm not. Settle down." The captain swiveled around and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "What I think is that Palpatine has spies and listening devices everywhere. I have no intention of being the one who defects with the Dark Lord's son. So I devised a variation on the original plan. I'm not Intel for nothing, kid. Brains as well as beauty, that's me."

"You know, you could be really irritating," Luke observed, then immediately wondered if this was how he irritated his father. "Huh. So, Intel, are you dangerous too?"

"Absolutely." Jovay grinned. "Not to you, of course."

"How fortunate for you."

"No," the newly-minted captain continued, oblivious of Luke's sarcasm, "for you I would lay down my life."

He was taken aback. "Really? Are you serious? You're kidding, right?"

The smile turned small and reflective, and maybe a little sad. "I'm not kidding."

"Oh." Luke folded his arms and glowered. "I don't like any of this," he declared. "We should have followed my dad's plan."

_Luke? Luke, where are you? What has gone wrong?_

_Oh, sure,_ _now_ _you want to talk! Well, never mind, I don't want to talk to you anymore!_

"Your dad!" Jovay chuckled. "That's still hard for me to imagine. However... say, are you hungry?"

"Hah, the old distract-him-with-food routine!" Grudgingly, Luke unfolded his arms. "Maybe. What do you have? And where are we going?"

Jovay gave him a tentative smile. "To rendezvous with alternate transportation."

"Then where?" he demanded.

"Too much information is not necessarily a good thing."

"And you call yourself Intel," he scoffed. "Be sure to tell my dad that when he asks what you're doing."

_Luke—_

_Stop interrupting!_

_Luke?_

_Go away._ Then, worried that he sounded too harsh, Luke added, _I'll talk to you later, after I figure out what's going on._

"How's Tessi?" he asked as he caught the box Jovay tossed at him. Peeling off the lid, he stared in dismay at the extensively processed and unidentifiable 'food'. "Ugh. I'm not hungry after all."

"Save it for later then. Now that you've opened it, it will be your next meal. Never waste nutrients when you don't know where your next meal is coming from."

Luke rolled his eyes. Jovay sounded like his father. Lecturing was another of those annoying adult habits. "Did you hear me? I asked how Tessi is."

"She's fine. Some nightmares when she first arrived on Naboo." Jovay glanced at him. "Something about a monster that tried to eat her."

Luke nodded. "A Rillavin hunter."

Jovan swiveled his chair around. "She said you killed the monster and saved her."

He shrugged modestly. "Does she miss me?"

"Not any longer." The captain smiled at his dismayed expression. "A child's sense of time is different from an adult's. She's forgetting a lot of what happened on Tatooine. She's happy with my brother and his wife, and she has many friends in the neighborhood."

"That's good." Maybe it was petty and small of him, but he felt a little jealous of Tessi. Quickly he pushed the unwanted emotion aside. "I'm glad for her," he said, and truly was.

There seemed to be nothing more to say. Luke searched carefully, pulled a selected datatape out of his pack, and plugged the audiobuds into his ears. Might as well spend this travel time learning something. He didn't want to let his dad down.

He settled back in the chair and closed his eyes as the tape whispered, _Imperial Government Structure Part II: Security and Intelligence._

Perfect.


	6. On His Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke is traveling farther from his father. He doesn’t like it— but maybe it will be a new adventure!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Corresponds with FFN 36

Luke flipped off the datatape and pulled the buds from his ears. "Where are we?"

Jovay pretended to be startled. "You've been so quiet, I forgot you were here. What went wrong? Music ended?"

"I was listening to an _educational_ tape," he replied icily. "Not all teenagers are music freaks."

"Really? I was. I must have memorized the lyrics to a thousand songs, went to a dozen concerts. I even got to meet The GreedleMoth when they wer—-"

Luke tuned out the unnervingly cheerful agent. For Intel, Jovay sure was chatty. In fact... "Hey," he interrupted, "you're avoiding my question. Where are we?"

The officer chuckled. "In hyperspace, kiddo."

"I know _that! Where_ in hyperspace?"

Jovay tilted his head until one green eye could focus on Luke. "In hyper, you're nowhere until you get somewhere."

"Stop that!" Krit, this was exactly the sort of stuff he would say to his dad when he wanted to drive Vader crazy. "Where are we going?"

The other man began to laugh, enjoying his frustration. "Let it be a surprise."

"Naboo?" Luke guessed. "We're going to Naboo!"

"No." Jovay sobered abruptly. "Think, Luke. You're wanted by the Emperor. Would I take you to my home planet and put it at risk?"

"Of course not." He folded his arms, uncertain if he was more disgusted by the chastisement or by his naivete. "Let's go put someone else's planet at risk." He could almost feel the sharp glance as it raked him.

"We won't be there long enough to endanger anyone. Why don't you take a nap?"

Like a pesky child. "I've been studying Imperial Security protocol," he said to regain control of the conversation, "and there's something I don't understand. Maybe you could answer a question for me?"

The officer swiveled his chair around, stretching out his legs and clasping his hands behind his head. "Shoot. Not literally."

Luke rolled his eyes but didn't let the flippancy distract him. "Can you tell me why," he asked sweetly, "an Intelligence agent would be loyal to Darth Vader and choose to defy the Emperor? Sounds like a risky move... maybe even a treasonous one."

The relaxed posture became rigid, though Jovay did not change his position. "I'm sure the agent would have good reason." He leaned forward.

"What reason do you think? Hypothetically, of course."

"Of course." Jovay gave him an annoyed look. "Hypothetically, the agent might feel some sort of personal loyalty to Vader motivated by... oh, like being Vader's son who's enlisted in the Rebellion."

"I'm not an agent! And we're talking about _you,_ not me!" His father wasn't sending him to be a spy, was he? Yet what else could he be, Son of Vader nested like a viper in the heart of the Rebel Alliance?

"We're talking about a hypothetical agent," Jovay reminded him. He studied Luke in silence for several moments, then his face softened and he relaxed. "When I was a child, your father saved my life."

Whatever he had expected, this wasn't even close. Luke slid to the edge of his seat, his eyes focused on the Intelligence officer. "What happened? Tell me everything about it."

"I was six, and a climbing fiend," Jovay reminisced with a chuckle. "I climbed a tree-- Naboo has the best climbing pines anywhere... well, I've heard Kashyyk has great trees but—"

"Will you get back to the story about my dad!"

"Actually, it's a story about me."

If he ever saw his dad again, Luke vowed never to tease or taunt him. "Just tell it. Please?"

"Sure. Long story short, I was hanging near the top, lost my grip and fell. Your dad made a fantastic jump - I was sure it was a hundred meters! - and caught me before I was halfway to the ground. He landed still holding me, put me down safe and sound, and I was his for life. Or so my parents promised. And I followed through."

"You mean you're like his _slave?"_ Luke gasped, horrified.

"Where do you get such wild ideas? Stars, no. After he left Naboo, I didn't see him again until I enlisted and then... then he was a lot different." Jovay's head turned and he stared into the darkness they sped through. "I'm not sure how I recognized him. It was a feeling, and I called... no, I didn't call, I just thought _'Anakin Skywalker'._ I think he was more surprised than I was." With a sharp sigh, the officer refocused his attention on Luke. "I promised him my fealty and he in turn gave my career a few nudges. You see, nothing startling or sinister. A pretty simple story, really."

A little too simple, Luke mused. Questions whirled in his head and he attempted to sort through them. "So... you mean you knew him when he was Anakin? Before Vader?"

Jovay nodded.

Luke hesitated before asking in a near-whisper: "What was he like?"

The captain studied him before answering slowly, "He was... colorful. Very alive, always moving— even when he was still, if you know what I mean." He smiled faintly. "Blue eyes like yours. Tall, wiry... mercurial. His mood could change in a second. He laughed a lot... and he was completely fearless."

 _He isn't any more,_ Luke thought sadly. "I wish I'd known him."

"You know him now," Jovay said in an odd tone.

"Yeah. But he's different now." His words sounded like a betrayal. Luke swallowed. "I still love him, though."

"Good. We're about ready to come out of hyperspace. Watch and learn."

"Okay." He hesitated. "So... your loyalty to my dad is just personal? There are no politics involved?"

Jovay's surprise was evident in the agitated way his fingers punched at the controls. "I think we've talked enough about this."

"Are you a double agent?" Luke asked suddenly. An Imp Intel officer, pretending to spy on the Alliance but really spying on the Empire and reporting to... Darth Vader? No, that didn't make sense.

"You've been watching too many holomovies. Pay attention to what I'm doing."

Typical adult put-down. Sure, he'd watched his fair share of holomovies, but that didn't mean he was obsessed with them. Anyway, he enjoyed space adventures more than espionage holos. Not that it mattered to Jovay; the accusation was just a way to shut him up. "Okay," he muttered, deciding that if the officer didn't want to talk, Luke might as well 'watch and learn'. "Are you going to tell me where we are?"

Jovay nodded at the viewscreen. Abruptly the blurred starfield ended and they emerged within sight of a large planet that Luke didn't recognize. "I don't know if I studied this one," he mumbled.

"Corellia."

"Cool!" Of all the planets he could have picked, this would have been his first choice to visit. Well, maybe not his _first_ first choice, but his first choice after Naboo, Coruscant, and Alderaan. "What're we going to do there? I want to see the old Pirates Bazaar and the—"

"We're not staying long enough for you to get in trouble," Jovay warned. "It's just a quick stop. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Luke sighed loudly. "I never get to have any fun," he complained.

"Let's keep it that way," the agent said sternly, then laughed. "You want to handle the landing approach?"

"Yeah!"

"I'll be right here if you get into trouble," Jovay said, and 'right here' really meant _right here_ because he didn't vacate the pilot's seat and his hands hovered nervously over the controls.

"I can do it, I can do it!" Luke grumbled crossly.

"Then do it."

"I will!"

And he did.

————-

The Coronet Cantinonet, besides having a stupid name, was nothing like the dives in Mos Eisley, but not by any stretch of anyone's imagination could it be called 'elegant'. There was a band playing the creepiest, eeriest music Luke had ever heard. The huge expanse was dark except for multicolored flashing lights that pulsated all over the ceiling, floor, and walls. Luke found himself turning in a circle, getting dizzy from the relentless onslaught of bright/dark that came every few milliseconds. Jovay grabbed his arm and pulled him along until he found a table against the wall.

Luke tossed his pack into the booth and slid in beside it. He stared at the table. It was flashing lights, too, and it was making him feel nauseous. 

"Pick a color."

"What?" he moaned.

"Pick a color and just stare at that color. It will steady you."

That was the dumbest thing he'd heard in ages, but he had nothing to lose... except that awful meal he'd had onboard. "Blue." He stared at a blue spot on the table. It blinked in a steady pattern of alternating spots and hollow circles. After a few seconds, Luke felt his stomach begin to unclench. A few more seconds and he felt brave enough to look around. The lights didn't bother him as much. In fact, they looked terrific. "Great place!"

"Thrilled you like it, kid," a strange voice said, and the voice's owner sat down next to him.

The stranger turned out to be a man who looked vaguely familiar— and when his giant Wookiee companion took a place across the table, Luke realized instantly who they were. "Hey, you're—"

The Wookiee interrupted with a string of growls. "Yeah, Chewie, you're right," the man said. "It's the kid from Eisley. Oz, right?"

"How did you know my name?"

"Ah, tavern owners still tell tales about you and the band of kids who ragged on the Imps." The man gave him an assessing look. "The stories are bigger than you are."

Luke glared and opened his mouth to retort, but Jovay interjected smoothly, "Han Solo and Chewbacca, meet Laze Loneozner, aka Oz."

Solo gave him a nod, then focused on the other human. "So, Karas, what's the job?"

"Transport."

"Cargo?"

"Just the boy... and no questions asked."

"Yeah?" Solo sipped his ale and leaned forward. "What is it, some kind of local trouble?"

"Let's just say," Jovay lowered his voice, "he needs to avoid any Imperial entanglement."

"Well, that's the trick, isn't it? It'll cost you extra."

Karas Jovay nodded. "Fifteen thousand. Five now and ten when you get to Dantooine."

"Dantooine?" Luke exclaimed. "What's—"

"Shhh!" the two men admonished, and the Wookiee added a low growl to the mix.

"Sorry," Luke muttered. "But why there? I studied it! There's nothing on the planet except a few tribes of nomads!"

"He has people there who will take care of him, Han," Jovay told Solo.

"I do?" Luke asked. "Nomads?"

"As long as I get paid, it's doesn't matter to me where I dump him," Solo said.

"It matters to _me!"_ Luke said loudly, irked that the three were ignoring him.

"Five thousand." Jovay slid his arm across the table, credits peeking out from under his sleeve. Chewbacca leaned his arms on the table and the credits disappeared into his long fur.

"I feel like I'm being sold," Luke complained.

"The rest of the money?"

"Deliver him safely to a man named Willard. He'll pay you."

"Hello? I'm still here," Luke reminded them. He reached for the nearest beverage, but Solo swatted his hand away.

The Wookiee slid out of the booth, with Jovay following him. "Take care of yourself, Oz," the agent said quietly, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "Try to stay out of trouble."

"You're _really_ not coming?" he asked, aghast.

Jovay shook his head, smiling slightly. He gave a Solo a half-salute. "He's all yours for now, Han. Good luck." He turned, weaving through the crowded cantina without looking back.

"C'mon, we haven't got all night," Solo said roughly. He stood, downed the rest of his drink and set the empty tankard hard on the table. "Chewie, start warm-up as soon as we get there. An easy fifteen thou, a few repairs, then we can take on Jabba's next job. Let's go," he added impatiently.

"I'm just waiting for _you!"_ Luke exclaimed defensively. "You are so _rude!"_

"Get used to it." Solo took two steps, then stopped. "Stick close to me, kid." 

"I'm fine." As if he couldn't take care of himself!

Solo gave him an incredulous look. "I'm worried about the ten thousand, not about you."

"Fine!" he shouted to be heard over the music that was growing ever louder. "Fine, just fine!" and he was talking to the empty place where Solo had stood. With a sigh, Luke shouldered his pack and followed the dark head that was following the giant Wookiee. What next?

_Hey, Dad? Can you hear me now?_

Nothing.

_Guess not. Talk to you later... sometime... I hope. If I’m not too far away._

Dantooine. He couldn't begin to imagine what was waiting for him on that desolate planet. Tatooine... Dantooine... he had a bad feeling about this.


	7. Traveling with Smugglers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke has a delightful, fun, heartwarming trip with Han Solo and Chewie.  
> Or maybe just a trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Corresponds with FFN 37

"How long is it going to take to get there, Mr. Solo?"

"Too long, and it's _Captain_ Solo."

"Really?" He leaned forward, trying to peer between Solo and the Wookiee, but there wasn't much to see. Just space and stars. "Captain of what? Are you an Imp?"

"No!" Solo looked back at him, his mouth curled and his face flushing. "Look, kid, I'm captain of this ship 'cause it's _my_ ship and if I _say_ I'm captain, then I'm captain."

"Sorry, just asking!" Affronted, Luke folded his arms and slid back in his seat. The Wookiee growled something that ended in a snort. "I couldn't agree more."

They both turned and stared at him. "What?" Luke demanded.

Solo shook his head. "Never mind. Chewie, any ideas on that little problem?"

Luke waited until after the growled response ended, then asked, "What problem? And why is it taking a long time to get to Dantooine? It shouldn't take long. I know where Dantooine is, I've studied all about it."

"Child genius," Solo commented under his breath before raising his voice. "Hyperdrive's been acting up. That's the problem and the reason, kid."

"My name is Lu— _Oz,_ stop calling me 'kid'!" He'd thought the ship looked like a piece of junk, and obviously his first assessment was correct. The Millennium Falcon was well named... the question was, what millennium was it from?

"Looooo-Oz? Cute. I thought it was pronounced 'Laze' like a laser."

"It is." He gnawed on his lower lip, struggling to remain civil. "Just call me 'Oz'. Please." If this guy got any ruder, he was going to forget his promise to Dad Vader about behaving properly.

"Right, kid."

The Wookiee growled at Solo, something about being nice to the little one. "Thanks," Luke said to him. "Can I call you 'Chewie'?"

There was a moment of silence before the other two turned around. "Did you understand what he said?" Solo asked.

"Uh... not all of it."

Chewie woofed and barked in a friendly way, indicating that Luke was welcome to call him by name. "Cool. Chewie." Luke grinned, and Chewie messed his hair with a huge paw.

"Where did you learn that?" Solo asked suspiciously. "Have you been to Kashyyk?"

"No, but I hear they have great trees!" Luke replied enthusiastically. "I've never actually seen a tree, except when we were coming into Coronet, but Jo— Karas said they're great for climbing."

Chewie launched into a rambling story that Luke didn't catch entirely, but it had to do with climbing and living in trees that went into the clouds. Solo grumbled to himself for a few seconds, then interrupted.

"Okay, enough with the chitchat, we've got work to do here."

"Can I help?"

"No. Go take a nap."

Luke felt more disgusted than angry. "Typical adult put-down! You just want to get rid of me!"

"You got that right. Once I get the ten thou, you're outta here, junior."

"That's— "

"And whaddaya mean, 'adult put-down'?" Solo snarled. "You're an adult, too."

"I am not!" Incensed, Luke jumped to his feet. His head connected with the top of the cockpit and he dropped back into the seat. "Ow!"

"You okay?" the Corellian asked gruffly while Chewie wuffed with concern.

He rubbed his sore head, then brought his fingers down and looked at them. "Well, I'm not bleeding, so I guess I'll live."

"Good. I don't want to lose that ten thousand. Now go take that nap."

"I'm not sleepy," Luke lied.

Chewie huffed a few times and stood. "Okay," Luke said resignedly, following the Wookiee out of the cockpit. "You're really tall. This ship should be bigger so you don't have to bend down so much. Are Wookiee ships bigger? Well, that's dumb, of course they are. Have you known Captain Solo for a long time?"

Without answering, the other gestured him into a small room. A couple bunks were built into the bulkhead. "Thank you, Chewie," Luke said politely as the Wookiee patted his shoulder and left. Chewie was a lot nicer than that Solo person. He wished Jovay hadn't left. Why couldn't Jovay have taken him to Dantooine?

He pulled off his boots and stretched out. If Jovay had met his dad on Naboo, maybe he'd known his mom, too. Why hadn't he thought to ask that? Exasperated with himself, Luke rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow. His life was moving too fast; sometimes his thoughts couldn't keep up with all the changes. And— he jerked his head up and glared at the closed door— Solo was wrong when he said Luke was an adult. Luke Skywalker felt the same today as he always had, so that was impossible. An adult would act more mature and think better and smarter... right? Unless this was as good as it got and the way he was now was the way he would always be.

With a groan, he pulled the pillow over his head and almost immediately began to feel drowsy. In a pleasant haze, he imagined himself in a tree, all the way at the top, clinging to rubbery branches, but the branches began swaying to and fro, faster and faster. A sharp leaf cut his finger and he let go, sliding, sliding, then sailing into the blue sky, falling...

_He landed in his father's arms. "Dad! You caught me!"_

_"Always." Darth Vader put him on the grass. It was soft and grainy like sand. Vader wasn't wearing his helmet, but Luke still couldn't see his face. "Luke, where are you?"_

_He looked around. "I think it's Naboo."_

_Vader sighed. "No. Where are you now?"_

_Oh. He stared up and up at his father. The sun blazed behind the figure, obscuring his features. "I guess I'm dreaming. I'm on a ship."_

_"Where are you going?"_

_"Uh... Dantooine somewhere. I don't know what's there."_

_Vader nodded. "Good."_

_"What's so good about that?"_ he asked as he rolled over. He opened his eyes and stared at the gray durasteel of the deck. With a sigh, he punched the flat pillow. He had too many questions, his brain wouldn't slow down, he would never fall asleep. In a few minutes, he'd get up, go back to the cockpit, and offer his help again. But right now the blanket was heavy on his limbs and he felt warm and comfortable. So he'd wait just a few more minutes...

Luke fell asleep.

 **OooOoo**

"Wow," Luke breathed softly, leaning between pilot and copilot to take in the view. "Is that grass?"

Solo chuckled. "Sure is. Never seen grass, desert boy?"

He shook his head, stunned into silence. It was blue! The wind created waves in the grass, making it look like living velvet. The lack of contrast between the clear sky and the purple-blue grass was amazing. He could hardly wait to get out of the ship and touch the ground to see what it felt like.

They were flying low. "How do you know where we're going? It's a whole planet— how are you going to find this Willard guy? How do you know where to— "

"Trust me, Oz, I know what I'm doing. Karas gave me the coordinates."

"Oh. How do you know Jo... Karas?"

"So 'Joe' is his first name, huh?" Solo gave a short laugh. "He saved our bacon once and turned out to be a good contact. Go us some lucrative jobs."

"Oh." Evidently Solo didn't know Jovay's true identity. "Um... _what_ did you say he saved?"

"Ah, kept us out of a mess. Right, Chewie?"

The Wookiee agreed.

"No," Luke persisted, "you said something else."

"I said he saved our bacon, kid. You got beans in your ears?"

"Beans!" Not only was Solo obnoxious, he was weird! "Why would I-- Oh, never mind. What's bacon?"

Chewie provided a colorful description of a delicious meat made from Corellian kaarthogs. Luke nodded. "Okay... so Karas saved your shipment of this meat?"

"It's an expression. I don't have time to give you a school lesson, kid."

"Krit!" Luke sat back, frowning. "Are we there yet?"

"Yup. Right... there." Solo gave a nod toward a distant spot. "Chewie, punch in the confirmation code."

"Confir— " Luke abruptly shut his mouth as a complex of buildings came into view. The structures looked as though they hadn't been there for long. This wasn't a city, though it was large. No, this was— "The Rebel Alliance! Right? Is that who it is?"

Solo looked over his shoulder, seeming to study Luke up and down, then trying to peer around him.

"What?" Luke demanded.

"I'm looking for your _'off'_ switch."

With a sound of disgust, he slouched back in his seat and folded his arms. "Fine. I'll be quiet."

"Starting when?"

The Wookiee laughed at what must have been, for Solo anyway, a witticism. Luke rolled his eyes. _Dad, what have you gotten me into?_

He managed to keep quiet while they landed their embarrassingly ugly ship on a hard surface some distance from the smaller buildings, but within several meters of ship hangers. It was dark inside the buildings, but he could see the outlines of small fighters— x-wings! Maybe somebody here could give him the x-wing tattoo he wanted.

"I have a tattoo of a TIE fighter."

"Fab-u-lous," Solo drawled.

"I just meant— Oh, forget it!" He squeezed his lips together tightly, vowing not to speak again unless someone asked him a question.

In silence, he helped Solo and Chewie unload a few crates from the ship. After they finished, an old man approached Solo. Luke started to edge away, but Chewie grabbed his arm.

"I just want to feel the grass," he wheedled, "just for a few minutes, pleeeease? I won't go anywhere, just... right there."

The Wookiee nodded and released him, and Luke hurried away before Solo saw him. He stopped at the edge of the duracrete strip. With a grin of excitement, he touched the grass with the toe of his boot, then leaped forward, landing on his hands and knees. He ran his fingers through the living carpet, surprised by its smooth texture. Lying on his back, he stared up at a blue sky that was a clear and vivid as the one above Tatooine.

With a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet. Grass wasn't as exciting as he thought it would be. There was a great-looking tree at the top of the hill behind him, though, so he started walking. He could climb the tree, but more importantly he wanted to see what was on the other side of the hill. Something was telling him that he needed to take a look at whatever—

"Oz! Get back here!"

"Krit!" he muttered under his breath, giving the hill a longing look before stomping back to address Solo. "You're not my father, you can't tell me what to do!"

"Uh-huh." Solo turned to the older man and said, "He's all yours. Hand over the cash."

"He's so rude," Luke complained to the stranger who was counting out a handful of credits. "Are you Willard?"

"Commander Willard," the man corrected quietly.

"Okay. Why are you paying so much money for me?"

"He'd be a bargain at a tenth of the price," Solo offered, drawing a laugh from Chewbacca.

"The money is from Karas," Willard said. "Solo, hope you make another run back this way soon. You didn't bring much this time."

"You didn't pay for much," the Corellian drawled. "Chewie, we're outta here. Oz... good luck."

"Uh... thanks," he replied uncertainly. People sure came in and out of his life fast. It would be nice if someone stayed for awhile. Like maybe his dad. And speaking of his dad, that ten thousand obviously came from Vader! No way would Jovay have that kind of money. And what was _with_ Jovay anyway? Did _everyone_ know him? Intel people were supposed to be inconspicuous, but Karas Jovay seemed extraordinarily well-known to diverse groups— Imperials, Rebels, and smugglers.

On the other hand, Oz was now known to the same groups. Pleased with what would probably turn out to be his new-found celebrity, Luke waved to his two escorts. Only the Wookiee waved back.

"Let's see your identichip."

"Oh." Luke rummaged through his pack and produced Fixer's I.D. "Here."

"Laze Loneozner," Willard read as he ran the chip through his handheld scanner. "Well, I can see why you prefer to be called 'Oz'."

"Yeah," he said ruefully. Luke Skywalker was a so much better name. If he had a choice, that was who he would be. But he had to be Oz for awhile, at least until his dad came and got him. Assuming his dad wanted him back.

"You know anything about ship maintenance?"

 _Maintenance?_ Luke sighed. "Yes, I'm good at fixing things. I can pilot, too."

"Hmm. We'll put you in Maintenance for now."

"Great," he replied without enthusiasm. _Daa-ad! Can you hear me?_

Story of his life: no reply. Disappointed, Luke followed Commander Willard toward the compound, casting a quick look back at the hill with its single tree silhouetted against the bright sky.


	8. Meet the Alliance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke arrives at the Rebel base. It’s just too dirty for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Corresponds with FFN 38

Commander Willard's deeply lined face was serious. "Are you planning on enlisting?"

"Enlisting?" Luke responded warily.

"If you want to be a pilot someday, you have to be a member of the Alliance."

He stared at the ground as they walked. "I hadn't given it any thought," he replied honestly.

"Start thinking," Willard said sharply. "You're only here because Karas asked for a favor and—"

"And paid a lot of money."

The older man stopped. "The Alliance runs on money. You can't fight a revolution without supplies and weapons. You'll bunk here. Green mech barracks."

"What?" But Willard left him without another word, and Luke looked at the building in front of him. It was a large portable unit that didn't look like it would stand up to a strong wind, and it was painted gray. He saw no green anywhere until he noticed a small strip at the top of the door.

Pausing outside for a moment, he considered how to enter. There was probably a central recreational area that was surrounded by small rooms designed to house a single person. If he went in as Oz, he would have to be confident, arrogant and flippant... but he was getting tired of Oz. It was a strain to be Oz, and he wished again he could just be Luke Skywalker. Or even Luke Lars. For a second, he toyed with the idea of bouncing in with  _ Hi, I'm Luke Vader!  _ and the probable reactions from the others made him smile.

Krit. Maybe he had to be  _ called _ Oz, but he didn't have to  _ behave _ like Oz. He wasn't that person any more. Whether anyone knew it or not, he was the son of Lord Vader, he was a Force-user (junior grade), and his future was full of possibilities. Even if he had to be a mechanic for awhile, sooner or later he would be a hero. Might as well start practicing being brave. Straightening his shoulders, he hefted his backpack higher and strode determinedly through the door.

The first thing that struck him was the darkness. The second thing was the dirt, as dust motes spiraled through the air like sprites when the sunlight hit them. The third thing he noticed was the... smell. The strong odors of sweat and very old socks mixed with grease and oil and smoke. There was a recreation area all right; it was a small table near the door where five men were smoking and gambling with hexagonal chips. The rest of the cavernous room contained rows of beds that were little more than cots. Some were empty, some occupied by men wearing underwear that obviously hadn't been washed in— no, he couldn't look at any more!

"Shut the damn door!" someone called irritably and, muttering an unintelligible apology, Luke backed out into the sun, gulping for fresh air.

"Oh, no, no, no, no," he muttered to himself. "What a mess! I've never lived like that and I'm not starting now." Finally he could appreciate what a nice home Aunt Beru had kept. Nice and  _ clean. _

He looked around. There were other buildings that looked the same as the one he had just left. They were probably the same inside, too. There had to be somewhere else he could stay, there just  _ had _ to be. Oh, for his quarters on the Devastator! Captivity by the Imperial Navy had never looked so good. And this group of unwashed ruffians thought they could defeat the Empire? Luke sniffed. Not a chance!

"Can I help you?"

Luke turned and studied the thirty-something man who regarded him with a serious but friendly face.

"I'm looking for a place to stay. Commander Willard told me here, but..."

"You're not a pilot then," the man said, sounding disappointed.

"I am! Just not... yet." It would have been simple to say yes and be assigned the pilots' quarters, which were bound to be a lot better than these barracks. At least he would get one night's sleep before they kicked him out. But his dad had told him that lying too much was a bad idea, and Luke didn't want to start off on the wrong foot. "I can't stay there. It's dirty and...  _ awful." _

The other laughed. "You must be from Naboo."

He felt his eyes widen. "Well, n-no, I'm not," he stammered. "Why did you think so?"

"They're the princesses of the universe. They even elect a queen." The blond officer chuckled at Luke's blank expression. "They like their comforts," he explained. "So where are you from?"

"Tatooine." What would this guy say if he knew Luke's mother had been one of those Naboo queens?

"Really?" The man looked surprised. "I thought you backplanet boys could stand just about anything."

"Tatooine is very clean," Luke said edgily, bristling a little at the insult. "The sand scours everything. And these... these people are  _ filthy. _ They don't bathe!"

The man choked a little, trying unsuccessfully to hide a laugh. "Well, my young prince, let's see if we can find you somewhere cleaner to stay. I know a few hidden nooks. What's your name?"

He stifled a sigh. "Oz. It's actually Laze Loneozner, but call me Oz."

"Pleased to meet you, Oz. I'm Garven Dreis, known to most people as 'Boss'." He thrust out his hand and Luke shook it firmly.

"Boss? Are you in charge of this place?"

"No, just one fighter group. I'm the leader of Red Squadron."

"A fighter pilot!" Luke exclaimed.

They started to walk. "Is that what you want to be?" Dreis asked.

He opened his mouth to call out an excited affirmative, but bit it back just in time. His dad wouldn't appreciate his son fighting against Imperial ships, would he? Luke sighed. "I guess not. Maybe just fly something else... transports or... something... I guess."

"I see. Well, I understand. Being a fighter pilot is a very dangerous occupation. Sooner or later, your number comes up."

"I'm not afraid!" he declared hastily.

"You should be." Boss stopped and looked him in the eyes. "And if you're smart, you  _ will _ be. You picked a dangerous side to fight on. We're outnumbered and outgunned. Our greatest strengths are our beliefs and our determination."

"So you think the Imperials aren't determined and don't believe in what they're doing?"

Dreis studied his face. "If you're not here because you want to overthrow the Empire, why are you here?"

"I didn't say I didn't want to overthrow—Well, I'm  _ here,  _ okay? I'm just here."  _ I'm here because my dad sent me and I don't know why. _ "I'm not sure why, I just know that I have to be here."

The older man kept staring at him. "How old are you? Fifteen, sixteen?"

He glanced down at his feet and shuffled them a little. "Mmm... I just turned eighteen," he lied in a mumble.

"What? I can't hear you."

_ "Eighteen!" _ he snapped. "I just turned eighteen!"

"I see. You seem much younger."

"I'm from a backplanet," Luke said sarcastically. "We mature more slowly."

Dreis tilted his head. "Huh. So what are your political convictions?"

"What is this, an interrogation?" He started walking again and Boss joined him, steering them to the right. They followed a narrow dirt path that turned uphill. "Tatooine is a long way from the Empire. They mostly left us alone. We have Hutt gangsters running the planet, and the Imps let them do it. The Imps never bothered me. Except," he added, "for killing my aunt and uncle who raised me, and chasing me around until I got off planet."

"Really. Why were they chasing you?"

One of these days he would learn to think through his statements before he made them. He scrambled quickly for an explanation that would contain more truth than lies. "I dunno. Maybe because I knew they killed my aunt and uncle and it would have been bad publicity if I told anybody."

Dreis sent him a skeptical glance. Luke stifled a sigh when he realized he was describing  _ his _ life, not Fixer's. Now he could only hope they didn't run a background check on 'Laze Loneozner'. "Well... they were also after me because I led a gang of street kids and used to raid the Imp barrack's food supplies."

He'd just done it again!  _ Luke, think before you speak. _ Would he ever remember that instruction?

"Fascinating," Dreis drawled. "And how did you get off Tatooine?"

Might as well finish with the rest of the truth. Sort of. "I got a job fixing a ship and traded my repairing skills for the trip off-planet."

"I see. Whose ship did you repair?"

"You sure ask a lot of questions." He sent the man a chastising look the way Oz would have. "It was a Falleen, a young guy. He was on some kind of trip to explore other planets and see how inferior humans were to the Falleen."

Finally Dreis seemed satisfied. He chuckled. "I've met a Falleen with that exact attitude."

Luke nodded enthusiastically, relieved to have something in common with this suspicious man. "Yeah, this guy was really arrogant. But kind of nice, too. In an aggravating sort of way, know what I mean?"

"Definitely," Boss said dryly, which made Luke give him a suspicious glance. He was being well-behaved; surely Boss wasn't referring to  _ him! _

Before he could ask, they reached the rise of the hill and Luke came to a sudden stop. Below him, a small gray city sprawled. It was full of activity; people, machines, droids— "It's huge!" he exclaimed. "This must be the whole Rebel army!"

"Mmm. We're going in here." Boss steered him through an open doorway into a small hut. Four tables were crammed into it but only one person sat inside— Commander Willard.

The older officer looked up and sighed wearily. "You just got here. How can you be in trouble already?"

"I'm not— "

Boss interrupted with, "I found him loitering in the compound."

"I wasn't— "

"I assigned you to Green," Willard pointed out.

"It was— "

"He didn't like it." Boss shrugged and sent a quick glance skyward. "It's too dirty for him."

"Naboo?" Willard asked.

"No! You people are sure— "

"He's from Tatooine."

Willard raised his eyebrows. "I thought— "

"No, we're not dirty on Tatooine!" Luke exclaimed. "You people have a lot of prejudices. Krit!"

Willard sighed. "Sit."

Luke swung the backpack off his shoulder. Boss grabbed it and said, "Let's see what he's got."

"Hey— "

"A friend sent him," Willard interrupted. "He's okay."

"Let's look anyway, just to be sure." Boss smiled slightly. "Although I think an Imperial mole would make himself less conspicuous."

"Mole?" Luke repeated uncertainly. "Who, me?" But... what if that's exactly what he was?

"Educational tapes. Good for you," Boss commented as he pawed through the contents. "Colorful clothes. I didn't realize Tatooine was so... dramatic. Hello, what's this?"

"Whatever it is, it's mine," Luke said coldly. "This stuff is all that I own. I don't appreciate you— " Oh, krit! Boss had his lightsaber.

"Isn't this one of those laser swords that Jedi used?" he asked, hefting the hilt in one hand.

"A lightsaber," Willard confirmed. "Oz? Where did you get this?"

"A junk shop in Mos Eisley." He eyed Boss's wide sweeping motions uneasily. "Careful with that."

"I've seen them before, I know which end is hot." The blond officer pointed the saber outward and pressed the control.

Nothing happened.

He tried again. "It doesn't work. The crystal must be missing. Not surprising after all these years." Boss returned the saber to his backpack. "Nice souvenir, though."

Luke kept silent, though he was worried. His lightsaber was broken! His dad told him to keep it safe and keep it with him. His dad said that his lightsaber was his life! What had happened to it? No one had touched it since...

...since Darth Vader had put it in his pack.

_ Keep it close always... But I don't know how to use it... When the need arises, when you are desperate, you will know how. _

Okay. "Yeah, that's what I thought, it's a great souvenir even though it's broken."

"As long as the Imps don't catch you with it and get the wrong idea," Willard said quietly.

"No kidding." He met the other's eyes, keeping his own gaze blank and unconcerned.

"So what are we going to do with you?" Willard asked.

"I'm a great mechanic, I can fix anything," he replied. "I'm not boasting; that's the truth. And I can fly."

"But not fighters," Boss pointed out.

Luke shook his head. Let them think he was a coward. Better that than risk meeting his dad in combat.

There was a brief pause. "I'll take him," Boss finally said. "We could use a mechanic who's exclusive to Red Squad."

Willard nodded. "If he works out, share him with the other squads."

"Ah, Commander—"

Willard quelled Boss's protest with a Look that reminded Luke of Dad Vader.

Boss sighed resignedly. "Okay. C'mon, kid."

"Oz."

"Oz." Boss grinned at him. "Let's get you settled in a nice, clean barracks."

"Barracks?" Luke had a vision of the building he'd fled from. "I want my own room!"

Behind him, Willard chuckled as they went through the door.

"You'll have a private cubicle all to yourself," Boss assured him, "just like the pilots have. You'll only have to share a 'fresher."

Luke closed his eyes briefly. Well, this was war. Sacrifices had to be made. And if he had to share a 'fresher...

He was Luke Vader-Skywalker (in disguise). He could do anything!

"Do I  _ have _ to?" he inquired plaintively, just to be certain.

"It's war. Sacrifices have to be made— even if it means sharing a 'fresher," Boss said, leaving Luke at a standstill, staring after him.

_ I gotta be more careful with this Force stuff! _


	9. Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke meets new friends...and a girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Corresponds with FFN 39

Luke sat on his bunk, pretending to search through his backpack. He was actually listening to the pilots' chatter, trying to get a feel for them before he joined them. The brief introduction that Boss had given ("This is Oz, new mechanic") had barely generated any responses. He wondered if pilots considered themselves superior beings or if they'd accept him as part of the squad.

Well, there was only one way to find out. Tucking the pack securely under his bed, he walked into the rec area. This was more like it! It was a large, comfortable room with tables for eating or gaming, and soft chairs for relaxing. There was even a small holoscreen that was currently turned off.

He decided not to interrupt the game of sabaac, even though he probably could give them a few pointers, and headed for the two men lounging in one corner. "Hi," he said when their conversation paused.

A dark-haired youth looked up at him. "You're the mechanic...?"

"Oz," he supplied.

"Short name. I'm Wedge Antilles." The pilot didn't stand or offer a hand. "This is Jek Porkins—"

A stout young man gave him a half smile.

"Laze Loneozner," Luke said awkwardly. "But call me Oz."

Antilles waved at a chair and Luke took it as an invitation to sit. "So. Mechanic."

Luke nodded. "I can fly, too, but I've never been in an x-wing."

"You can fly?" Porkins straightened. "Great, we need more pilots!"

"We _need_ a mechanic," Antilles reminded him. "You ever work on an x-wing?"

"No, only—" He just about said, _only TIE fighters,_ "smaller ships. But I'm good, I can fix anything."

"And we can teach you to fly x-wings," Porkins interjected. "You enlisted, right? Or are you a civie?"

"Uh... I'm a civilian. That reminds me," Luke remembered, "do you know how much I'll get paid?"

Wedge laughed a little. "Same as the rest of us. You get room and board. If you're not enlisting, you don't even get a uniform, so keep your clothes clean."

"We can pop for a jumpsuit for him," the other man protested. "Sithspit, Antilles, you Corellians are cheap!"

"That's why we're rich," Wedge said in a regretful tone that meant he had no money at all. "Where're you from, Oz?"

"Tatooine."

"Huh. We don't get many from the Outer Rim Territories."

The conversation faded off, and Luke wondered if it was always this boring here. Maybe he could perk things up. "So why are you fighting the Empire if you're not getting paid?"

The door behind him banged open and Boss entered. Luke expected people to stand, but no one did, so he stayed in his seat.

"The Empire is evil. That's why we're fighting," Porkins said.

Same old story. "How can a whole Empire be evil?" Luke asked. "That's billions of beings... including us." He felt a presence behind him and knew that Boss was hovering.

"The government of the Empire," Wedge clarified. "Don't they teach you anything on Tatooine?"

He was getting tired of people thinking Outer Rim inhabitants were stupid! "Of course they do!" he snapped. "But we hardly see anything of the Empire, so I'm asking! Is that a crime?"

Boss chuckled. "He's a feisty one, boys, best watch out." The brown-haired man walked around him and sat across from Porkins. "The Emperor staged a coup and dissolved the Republic over fifteen years ago in order to establish a form of government that relies on terror and torture to enforce its hold on the galaxy. The Moffs and Vader, with millions of stormtroopers at their disposal, enforce the Emperor's hold."

"Well then," Luke asked carefully, "wouldn't it be easier to just get rid of the Emperor instead of fighting millions of troopers? Maybe the stormtroopers don't like the Empire. I mean... the Moffs probably like it because it's why they have power, but I'll bet Vader doesn't like it either."

There was a moment of silence, then Porkins said, "I can see this kid is going to be great for morale."

"I'm just _asking!"_ He folded his arms. "I want to know how other people think!"

"It's all right," Wedge said understandingly. "We're not making fun of you. It's just hard to relate to someone who hasn't experienced the Empire firsthand."

"That's not quite true," Boss said thoughtfully. "Oz, you told me your guardians were killed by stormtroopers and that you were driven from Tatooine by them."

He shrugged. "That was like a police action. It wasn't politics."

"Of course it was politics," Wedge countered. "That scene is playing out over and over, everywhere in the galaxy. Farms and businesses being stolen, homes destroyed, families separated and killed."

He hoped his dad wasn't doing anything like that. "It doesn't make sense. If Palpatine destroys so much, there won't be an Empire left for him to rule." The other three smiled slightly, as if they were humoring a child, but Luke thought his point was valid. "I still say, get rid of the Emperor. He's the one controlling everything."

"Sure, we'll just fly right up to the palace and shoot him," Porkins mumbled.

"Palpatine and Vader both," Boss mused. "Cut off the head and the rest of the snake dies."

"Speaking of which..." Wedge stood and grabbed a box, dealing out electronic darts between the four of them. "Let's have a go, shall we?" He pushed open a door, revealing crude images of the Emperor and Darth Vader on the back of it. Aiming carefully, he threw a dart. It lit bright orange and made a buzzing sound when it struck Luke's dad in his chestplate.

Luke flinched and quietly put his darts aside. "When do we eat?" he asked, hoping to distract them.

It didn't work. They were caught up in their game and soon added rounds of derogatory shouts along with each throw. With a sigh, Luke slipped away and went outside. _Dad?_ he asked without much hope, and there was no answer.

He looked around. No one was paying attention to him, so he wound his way through the buildings and headed for the hill that looked so enticing. Time to see what was on the other side.

There was nothing. Luke made a sound of disgust and dropped to the grass, disappointed. He didn't know why he had felt compelled to climb the hill nor why he had stopped where he did, in a wide valley ringed by steep slopes. Still... there was something familiar about the place, almost as if he'd been here before. It felt... good.

He lay back in the grass. It was soft, warmed by the single sun that shone down with a temperate heat. It was nothing like Tatooine. Strange, how rarely he thought of Tatooine. He never wished he was back home...

Luke blinked, then threw his arm across his forehead to shield his eyes. At the moment he'd thought 'home', the image that flashed into his mind was not the Lars homestead, but rather his room on the Devastator... and Darth Vader, standing there looking at him, hands on his hips, smiling behind his mask.

He sniffled and blinked a few more times, then sat up. Determinedly, he concentrated on his surroundings, pushing his father to the back of his mind. It was pretty here, but there was something else, something more than just the attractiveness of the landscape... there was a feeling of... Well, he didn't know what it was.

Rising, Luke walked farther, entering an odd cluster of forest. Now he felt wary, as if someone lurked behind the trees, waiting to—

"AAGH!" he shouted when a spectral figure suddenly appeared in front of him.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" the figure demanded angrily, and he saw it was just a girl in a white dress.

"You scared the krit out of me!" he accused.

"How dare you talk to me that way," she huffed, folding her arms and glaring at him.

He squinted to take an inventory of her. She was about his age, shorter than he was, with a stupid hairdo. "What are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" she countered.

"I have every right to be here." He folded his own arms and returned her glare. "I'm with the army!"

"So am I!"

"Oh, please!" he scoffed. "You're a little girl! What kind of girl— Oh." Well, why not? Those kind of girls did a big business in Mos Eisley. "You're _that_ kind."

She gasped, then her glare became more intense. "I have no idea what you mean," she said icily, "but I am a senator and I won't be treated disrespectfully by some—some— _peasant!"_

"Who're you calling a peasant, sister?" he demanded. "You don't even know me! You don't know anything about me! And you, a _senator—_ c'mon! You're about twelve years old!"

"Oh! Oh!" She was so angry, she couldn't form a coherent word, and Luke couldn't help but grin at her.

"So what's your name?" he asked. "I'm Oz. I just got here today."

"Hrmph." She still scowled, but obviously good manners were warring with her irritation. "Leia Organa," she said finally.

"That's a pretty name," he replied as a peace offering. "Where're you from?"

Leia shuffled around a little, as if she didn't want to let go of her anger. She reminded Luke of his dad. "Alderaan."

"Cool. I'm from Tatooine."

She rolled her eyes. "No wonder you have no manners."

"You know," Luke snapped, "I've never met as many rude people in my life as I've met here. You're all prejudiced and act superior! Some Alliance! I'm not impressed."

Those accusations must have had some impact, because she looked embarrassed. "You're right," she acknowledged with a tiny sigh. "I'm sorry, Oz. So tell me, what are you doing here? Most people don't come here. I think of it as my private retreat."

"Oh. Sorry for trespassing." He looked around. "I'm not sure. I just... like the way it feels. I know that sounds silly."

"No, I understand, that's how I feel, too." She looked at him with faint surprise on her face. "I just haven't met anyone else who felt the same way."

"Oh." It occurred to him that he was actually talking to a nice girl, and he wasn't nervous. He also wasn't attracted to her, which made him annoyed with himself.

They stood motionless for a moment. The hair along the back of Luke's neck prickled and he shivered, not from the breeze that was warm and moist. He looked over his shoulder. Nothing was there.

Leia folded her arms again, but this time she appeared cold rather than angry. Their eyes met. "I think we should go," Luke said awkwardly.

She nodded. They began to walk, then increased their pace to a trot after only a few steps. Luke grabbed her arm and broke into a run. When they were in the sunny, open meadow again, they both stopped and looked back.

"That was creepy," Luke muttered, unable to pinpoint what had so unnerved him.

"Cold," Leia said softly. "Like... something was wrong. Bad."

He nodded in agreement. "Have you ever felt that before?"

She shook her head. "No. I've been a little uncomfortable in the forest, but nothing like this time."

Great. Maybe it was a Bad Sith thing that he attracted. Probably evil spirits were swirling around and were going to follow them back to the base.

"Thanks for getting us out of there so fast," she said, and he knew it was a small gesture of friendship.

"I really saved our bacons," he boasted playfully.

She giggled a little, then agreed with a nod and a smile. "I need to get back," Leia said when they reached the outskirts of the encampment.

"Me too. It was nice meeting you," he said, to show her that Tatooinies could be as polite as anyone else in the galaxy.

"You too, Oz," she answered with a smile, and he felt a pang of regret that he had to lie to her about his name. "Good-bye."

He watched until she disappeared out of sight and sighed. This feeling wasn't nearly as bad as when he'd had to leave his dad, but still... he felt oddly bereft.

 _Stop feeling sorry for yourself,_ he scolded, and added aloud: "I'll go look for the mess hall. A hearty dinner, and I'll feel great!"

Room and board. He was pretty sure that meant they would feed him.


	10. Let’s Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke settles in and has a talk with Dad Vader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Corresponds with.... oh, I dunno.... FFN 40, I guess.

Well, yes, they fed him, but he wasn't impressed with the food, which was even worse than Imp-ship food... except for the lush fruits that were freshly picked and full of juice. Luke wondered if he could live on fruit alone and skip the dry rations.

After dinner, there didn't seem to be much to do so he returned to his cubicle and shut the door. Maybe if he took a nap, he could talk to his dad again. It worked last time. "Luke to Dad," he muttered, closing his eyes and pretending to sleep. "H'lo, Dad, come in! Yoo-hoo!"

After a few minutes of waiting, he gave up. He wasn't tired and it was hard to fake sleep. He wandered out into the encampment, enjoying the fresh, clean air and cooling temperature. Dusk was just beginning to settle, and on the horizon he saw two moons beginning their climb into the darkening azure sky. They looked lonely sitting out there by themselves, waiting for full night to reveal their starry companions.

"Pretty, aren't they?"

He turned his head. Leia Organa. "I guess. Tatooine has two suns. The moons remind me of there... well, except that these are moons instead of suns, it's cold instead of hot, grass and trees instead of desert, full of people instead of—"

"I get the idea," Leia interrupted good-naturedly. "Um... Oz, I'm not usually as rude as I was this afternoon. Something about that area sets my nerves on edge. I'm sure that was why you were rude, too."

"Nope," he disagreed cheerfully. "With me, what you see is what you get." Except for all the lies about his identity.

She made a funny cluck-clucking noise. "I was trying to give you an excuse for your behavior."

"Who asked you to?" Luke grinned at her. "I can think up my own excuses, thanks anyway."

Leia raised her eyes toward the sky. "Fine. I only came over to say that it was nice meeting you. I'm leaving for awhile."

A rush of anger jolted through. People appeared in his life and disappeared almost immediately. There was hardly any point in getting to know someone. He forced himself to speak calmly. "Where are you going?"

"I have a diplomatic mission," she stated evenly, but her cheeks flushed and he knew she wasn't telling the entire truth.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said shortly, turning away from her, angry that she was leaving and insulted that she wasn't being honest with him.

_ Oh, look who's talking about honesty! _

"Princess!" a voice called. Luke turned to see a strange officer coming toward them.

"Princess?" he repeated. Great. She was the Alderaani princess he'd heard about. It figured that he'd insult someone important. Oh, well, it was practice for meeting Palpatine.

She left him without further words, and he watched her walk downhill to greet the officer. Her behind swished nicely from side to side and why that didn't move him, he didn't understand. Maybe he was what Aunt Beru used to refer to as a 'late bloomer'. "Wish I'd bloom soon," he muttered.

What to do, what to do. Apparently he wasn't required to report to work tonight, so he headed out of the camp and ran up 'his' hill. When he reached the top, he took advantage of the privacy to exercise his Force skills—leaping up to grab hold of high tree branches, climbing higher and jumping down, executing cartwheels over and over—in short, he did everything he could think of to wear himself out. Then he sat down and stared at the lights of the base. From here, it looked quiet and pretty.

"Hah! People probably think that about Leia, too!" He laughed at his cleverness. Lying back in the grass, he relaxed in the cozy feeling of being surrounded by a mysterious warmth despite the cooling air and... eww, the grass was wet. Nevertheless, he closed his eyes and drifted into a pleasant haze.

"Nice to see you again," Darth Vader said dryly.

Luke turned his head lazily. "Hi, Dad. Where've you been? I tried to call a couple times but I didn't get an answer."

"At this distance, in order to attain mental contact you need to be in a meditative state... or the state that, for you, passes as meditation: asleep."

"You told me sarcasm isn't polite," he reminded his father. "Hey!" He sat up suddenly. "Is Jovay your son?"

"What?" Darth Vader's mask disappeared and his father's indistinct features swam in front of him. "Just how old do you think I am?"

"I dunno."

"Well, I'd have to be a lot older in order to be Jovay's father."

"Don't get your pants in a twist," he replied mildly. "He just said something that made me wonder. So... you're not, right?"

Vader was back, breathing heavily. "I am not."

"Okay. Just checking." Pleased with the answer, Luke relaxed and yawned widely.

"If you fall into a deep sleep, we will not be able to talk."

"Oh." He blinked several times, trying to stay partly awake.

"We'll go for a walk." Vader rose.

Luke stood, then looked down at himself still lying on the grass, eyes closed. "Uh..."

Vader waved his hand. "Leave your body there. We'll come back for it."

"That's good." He followed his father. "As long as it won't get eaten by wild animals. What if somebody finds it...  _ me? _ Will they think I'm dead?"

"No, Luke, they'll think you're sleeping. Where do you get such wild ideas?"

"Out of my head." They were moving into the small clearing. Vader's black garb kept appearing and fading, and sometimes he looked like a different man altogether. "So are we like... spirits now? Or ghosts?"

"Neither. We're meditating."

"Wow, walking and meditating at the same time. Cool." Luke quieted, content to simply enjoy his dad's company. But the need to talk was too great and he managed only a few seconds of silence. "I met a girl."

"You did?" Vader halted, sounding pleased, and his mask shimmered and disappeared. "What sort of girl?"

"The usual kind. Two arms, two legs, two—you know."

A younger man laughed at him. "I know. Do you like her? What's her name?"

"Her name is Leia Organa and I guess she's a prin—"

"Hah!" Darth Vader shouted triumphantly. "I knew it! The Princess is more than just a supporter of The Rebellion Against the Empire, she's a participant! Now I can gather the evidence I need to arrest her."

"You can  _ not!"  _ Luke protested. "I'm not a spy! You can't take advantage of me being here—that's cheating! It's not fair!"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Hey!" Luke grabbed Vader's arm and yanked on it. "If you arrest her because of this, I'll never speak to you again. I mean it."

"Of course you will speak to me, you cannot stop yourself from talking," his father said smugly.

Luke pressed his lips together and decided to try another tact. "You need to show some respect for me. What kind of father would betray my confidences?"

Darth Vader looked down at him, folding his arms. Luke folded his own arms and glared back. They were both still for several very long seconds. "All right," Vader finally agreed grudgingly.

"Okay then." Luke nodded and they began walking again, ending up in the small meadow he'd discovered earlier. "What is this place?" he asked, knowing his father would understand.

"Thousands of years ago it was the site of a Jedi teaching enclave. Many great Jedi were taught here, including the Sith Lord, Exar Kun."

"Oh." For whatever reason, he was vaguely disappointed. "You know, there's a Dark place in the trees that Leia felt, too. It was... scary. Maybe that Kun-guy was coming after me."

Either his father didn't think he needed reassuring or he was simply ignoring those last words. "Leia Organa felt Force emanations?" he asked in an odd tone.

Luke shrugged. "How would I know? It was just a creepy place that neither of us liked. Let's go the other way."

"Let's go back to your body."

"Already? But we haven't talked in ages."

"Days and days. Nevertheless," his father steered him around, "other people are approaching and it's best that you be awake when they arrive."

"Why? What would happen if I wasn't? Hey!" he exclaimed, remembering. "My lightsaber is broken! How do I fix it?"

His dad ignored that. Luke was beginning to figure out that when his father ignored something, either it was actually important or he didn't want to answer for some other reason. Maybe he was embarrassed to have given Luke a defective lightsaber. Or maybe he wanted Luke to repair it himself. "I have more things I want to talk to you about. I miss you. And..." He didn't know how to tell his dad that he was angry at him, because he wasn't, not really. It was just hard to understand why he was here instead of with his father.

"Luke." His dad stopped them in front of Luke's relaxed body. "You must practice meditation— without falling asleep. When you have reached a higher level of skill, we will be able to contact each other more often, and more frequent communication will become necessary as events progress. Be mindful of the people around you and of your own safety. I do not like that you are here with the Rebels."

_ "You _ sent me here," he reminded his father crossly.

"Dangerous as it is, right now the Alliance is a safer place for you than the Empire." Vader glanced at the pilots heading toward them. "Get back in your body now."

"How do I—?" Luke opened his eyes and sat up. His father was nowhere to be seen, but Wedge and Porkins were approaching. "Hi. Just copping a snooze," he explained nervously.

"Boss sent us to get you," Wedge said. "There are wild animals roaming around at night. It could be dangerous."

"I knew it," Luke muttered, hoping his dad could feel his silent recrimination.  _ They could have eaten my body while we were wandering around! _

"Boss sent Wedge," Porkins clarified, "and Wedge was afraid to come up here alone."

"I wasn't  _ afraid,"  _ Wedge denied sharply. "I just figured you could use the exercise."

"Oh, yeah, just what I've always wanted, exercise. Thanks, buddy."

As they continued bickering, Luke joined them and headed back toward the base, casting a longing look over his shoulder.

No dad. He sighed heavily, both sorry and relieved. The other two looked at him and he had to think quickly.

"I have a tattoo," he said brightly. "Wanna see?"

"No," Wedge said.

"Sure," Porkins said.

"No," Wedge repeated, more emphatically.

"It's a TIE fighter," Luke offered.

"A TIE fighter?" Porkins repeated doubtfully. "Maybe you shouldn't show that to anyone."

"I wanted to get an x-wing on the other arm, but I ran out of credits."

"Too bad you didn't get that first," Wedge muttered. "Don't show Boss. He'll want to scrape it off." He paused, looking at Luke as they walked. "You really should be in bed, you know. We get up early."

"Oh,  _ please!" _ Luke rolled his eyes at the absurd suggestion. Bed at this hour, like he was a child! "I couldn't possibly fall asleep this early. Besides, I'm not a morning person, I'll work a later shift."

Porkins chuckled. "Good luck with that," he said cheerfully, and even the serious Wedge smiled.

Luke didn't speak again as they reached the barracks and separated, each going to his own cubicle. Wedge seemed to be not much older than him, but was so grim and... adult. If that's what it was like to grow up, Luke vowed never to let it happen to him. Turning out to be boring was one of his great worries. Not that Wedge was boring... well, who could tell, he was so serious.

He sat on the edge of his bunk and fished the lightsaber out of his pack. He pressed the control again, but sure enough, it was still broken. He hoped he could fix it, but maybe he shouldn't do it yet. What if someone stole it? He didn't know these people; they could be thieves. It's not like they were his friends... What was the point in being friends with them? They'd be gone soon. They'd die in combat or he'd leave because his dad decided that he should go live with the Wookiees or some other dumb idea. Luke frowned and mentally scowled at his dad, then immediately stopped, just in case he was broadcasting through the Force.  _ I'm really not mad at you, _ he sent, though he sort of was.

The lights went out. Luke sat there for a moment, snarling silently at the stupidity of an army that decided its troops should be in bed by 2200, as if they weren't adults and couldn't decide for themselves.

"Oh, wait," he muttered, "I'm not an adult and never will be. Gotta remember that."

He remained sitting upright on his bunk, vowing not to cave in to The Man and go to sleep. But in a few minutes, he tilted sideways and relaxed against the surprisingly soft pillow. He wouldn't sleep, but he could rest for awhile before going to bed.

The next thing he knew, lights were blinding him and a loud buzzing was sounding in the barracks. Luke pried open one eye when there was a tap on his door before it was flung open.

"Rise and shine, tattoo-boy," Porkins called happily. "It's time for the early shift! Don't say you weren't warned!"

"Terrific," Luke grumbled, pushing himself into a sitting position. He wasn't even getting paid for being abused like this! Something was definitely wrong in the galaxy, and it looked like the Rebels were part of the problem.


End file.
